One Apart
by Pixel-0
Summary: This takes place after The Kidz are Aiight from Zack's viewpoint. It gives some insight into his complex mind, and why he said some of things he did to Tinga when he went back to Portland. NOT MZ. Rated R for mild violence and sexuality.
1. A New Day

One

Note: This takes place a month or two after "The Kids are Aiight". 

I awoke on the hard ground. Although it wasn't exactly your finest down pillow and silken sheets, it suited me. Besides, I wasn't an indoor person anyhow. Outside, I could be free, and run as far and as fast as I wanted. Which, depending on my mood, could be pretty dang far and fast. 

Standing up, I brushed off the seat of my blue jeans. Well, technically they weren't my jeans; I had swiped them from some drug addict in exchange for what he thought to be marijuana in a dark alley. Probably about now he was realizing that ground dandelion leaves didn't quite give the same high as the real weed. Yet, the jeans were warm and kept me clean from the dirt I slept on a good majority of the time. 

I stretched, raising my arms high above my head and looked at the sky. Patches of the night were still scattered about, but the sun was slowly arriving. It would've struck most as a beautiful morning and they would've gone into some poetic prose. But, I was not the sentimental type. Big deal a new day. Yipee. Time to press your nose to the grindstone and get your rear in gear. 

I yawned. I usually didn't get up so early, and allowed myself to sleep in till at least full sunrise, but today I couldn't risk the full illumination of the sun. I wasn't exactly in the safest territory and at any moment I could be spotted and captured. Not my idea of your typical spring vacation. 

Straightening the hem of my thin red T-shirt I had stolen from a hippie band concert, I rotated my neck on my shoulders, cracking it slightly so that I could fully wake up. Couldn't go anywhere acting like a half-dead zombie. That would most surely cause me to go wandering off the side roads and get squished by a car. Not my type of death. I mean, if you're going to try to kill me, at least make it clean-ok? 

Trying to kill me. I nearly laughed out loud at that thought. Seriously, how many people were after me, maybe not trying to kill me, but at least get their dirty little hands on me? Hmm…Good question. I'd have given it more thought, but my brief moment of observing life was over. Time to start hiking. 

I hurried up the side of the ditch I had been sleeping in. There was some depressed grass where I had lain, but to any other passerby, it could've just as easily been a deer bed. Scuttling up the side of the grassy, steep ditch, I peeked cautiously over the edge, my body pressed close to the ground. The blades of grass and dead weeds poked through the thin shirt and irritated my stomach. Still, I couldn't think about that, more important issues at hand. 

The paved road was a couple feet away, but I saw or heard no cars approaching. Good. It would give me just enough time. I sprang from my position, as the muscles in my thighs quickly snapped and propelled me upwards. I dashed across the road like it was the Olympic relays. Once across, I threw myself into the air, flying over another ditch. Landing in a crouched position, I quickly scanned the thick foliage for any traces of other human life. Good. None. I rose to my feet and allowed the stinging in my legs where I had put the most force on to recede by walking slowly. I picked up my casual walking pace to a jog, which would keep me ahead of the people even if they did happen to find my trail. 

Thankfully, I was now in a forest where it would be harder for them to find me. Seriously, these people were worse than the paparazzi, always after me. I mean, most of the human population would love to be adored-but in reason-ok? 

I really didn't know where I was heading or what I planned to do once I reached my unknown destination. Everyone was taken care of. My friends, that was. Fortunately, for the rest of my Manticore group, they all had nice homes, nice places to stay. Then why didn't I? Good question. I really didn't like homes. Personally, they brought back bad memories. Memories I tried to keep repressed as firmly and often as possible. Which isn't always an easy thing. 

I didn't have any money to rent or even buy a house, apartment, or, heck, even a box. But, boxes are so cramped. I've tried it, not pleasant. Seriously, you try sleeping in a box no bigger than a refrigerator. Nasty, nasty leg cramps. 

Back to original thought. What exactly was I planning to do? I was in Canada, or at least I thought I was. Couldn't tell where the U.S forests and the Canadian blended. Still, I was close enough to the rest of the members of my "group" that I could've easily visited them. I worried about them, as I always have and always will. They're family, and some of them I like in a little bit more of a "personal" way, so to say. 

Still, I didn't dwell on things like that. Because like I said, I'm not a sentimental person. 


	2. The Engine of a Jeep

One

I walked a little bit further before arriving upon a little creek. Perfect. I could easily travel in it, by walking in the shallowest part, and I wouldn't be detected. I slid down the side of the rocky ditch where the creek was located at the bottom of it. Skinning my knee in the process, which caused me to curse out loud. But, nobody cared. The animals were the only ones around me, and they didn't speak English. 

The water was extremely cold. I felt like somebody had just stuck my feet into a giant ice cube. The freezing temperatures brought back another memory. 

Lydecker, that jerk, decided to test our strength on temperatures. Made us stand until we were turning blue in a freezer like environment. Could've killed us, the bastard. But did he care? Seriously, did he ever care? I didn't think so. 

Furiously, I shook my head and tried to clear it of the memory. It's not like the past mattered. All the past could do was occasionally come back to bite you in the ass. Yeah, maybe it hurt, but that's why I tended to grit my teeth a lot-helps the pain of the freaking memories.

I continued upstream for some ways. Didn't matter much how far I walked. Not like I was trying to break any records. Still, the walking gave me a chance to think. Thinking wasn't something I especially enjoyed. I didn't sit and examine things and worry and fret. If it's done, it's done. If it's going to be done, just do it damn right. Well, that's my perspective anyhow. 

I could've hummed or sang, or done something else. But, I've tried singing before when I was broke and needed money. Seriously, I could've become my very own sit-com. Yeah, some people laughed _that_ hard. 

Quickly, I traced over the memories of my friends, trying to remember if they would be okay without me for a couple days. Couple days? What am I, kidding myself? Ok, sure, probably a couple weeks before they see me again. But still, would they be okay? Mentally, I checked each of them off in my mind. As long as they were content, I was content. Sure, I might be freezing and starving, but hey, that was life. 

I continued to walk until I heard the engine of a Jeep. Lydecker. I instantly stiffened. Guess he decided to launch a full-scale search of the area after all. Boy, didn't I feel loved to know I'm wanted so bad? 

Picking up speed to a good running pace, I was able to jump high enough to grab a nearby tree branch overhanging the creek. The branch swayed and I thought for a moment it would break and send me tumbling into the water. Groaning, I swung myself up onto the branch and scurried into the foliage of the tree where Lydecker couldn't see me. 

Geez, I told myself as the branch bowed, you have got to talk to Jenny Craig. I nearly laughed out loud at that thought. I barely had enough money to buy food and here I was worrying about weight loss? 

Fortunately, I decided not to laugh just as Lydecker came into the forest surrounded by his usual buffoons. Lydecker was tired. It was obvious from the dark circles under his saggy baggy eyes and from the tedious pace he moved at. Hey, I mocked, you always told us never to drag behind, so why are you? Because you're weak, I jeered at him. Weak. Weak. Weak. 

"You, go that way. You men go the other way. The rest of you, split up," Lydecker told his monkey men. "They couldn't have gone far." No, I haven't. I'm right above you. I'm so close I could spit and it'd land right it your hair. Hmm…spitting on Lydecker, not a bad idea. 

It wasn't long before the men came back reporting that there was no trace that I had been near. Duh. Could've seen that one coming. 

Lydecker ran his fingers through his hair. "They're around here somewhere. I know they are." Just look up, I thought, just look up. 

He sighed, obviously tired of chasing after me. Hell, I would be tired of chasing after me too. "I guess if we move a little bit north, more into Canada, maybe we could find somebody who's seen 'im." Slowly, he turned back around and trudged away. 

I crouched up in my little tree hiding spot, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Never gonna get me, are ya, Lydecker? Never gonna let me be caught up in your little psychopathic net of destruction? Never catch me? I jumped swiftly down to the ground, crouching, and glancing about before fully rising. 

And smugly, I thought to myself, actually more or less directed at Lydecker, that's because I'm just too damn good for you. One of your own children better than you or your wildest dreams. Actually, for you, I'm your worst nightmare.


	3. Dodging Trees

One

After making sure Lydecker was gone, I began to hike again. There had to be a town nearby. Or, at least I hoped there was. Perhaps I could pick up some food. Eating plants wasn't exactly my idea of food, but it satisfied if necessary. I hoped that I wouldn't have to lower myself to eating plants. Yuck. 

I started off at a fair walking pace, more or less trying to clear my head. Seeing Lydecker again would make anyone nauseous. The urge to hurl my last meal into the bushes seemed rather tempting. Yet, I really didn't like the feel of goshy food particles erupting out of my stomach. Food was meant to go into your body one way. It was also meant to come out of your body one way. Probably better keep it that way. 

After fighting off the sickness, I began to jog, heading away from the road. Running was one of the few things that could take my mind off my wretched past. Just feeling the ground give beneath my feet, the wind blowing my hair, and the overall powerfulness that I had still amazed me. Lydecker had done a better job on me than I would have hoped. Still, "his" children were all eventually going to come around and bite him in the ass. Well, I didn't know about the others, but I sure was. Not literally bite him of course, but the jerk deserved to be punished in some way. 

The forests became humid rather quickly and sweat soon began to drip off my face. At first I ignored it, but when it began to get into my eyes and sting, I paused to wipe it off my forehead. During my brief pause, I surveyed the area. Still no city nearby. Damn. 

Again, I began to run, dodging trees and occasionally jumping over a ditch or two. The animals in the forest would only look up at me briefly, not really caring. I wondered briskly if they really understood that I shared some DNA with them. Hmm, interesting enough thought, but not at the moment. 

The trees began to thin out, causing more sun to come falling down on me. This only led to more obsessive sweating. I slowed down just long enough to strip off my shirt and clutch it in my right hand. There, much cooler. Feeling better, I picked up the pace greatly and bounded through the forest, free of worries. 

Finally, after awhile of running, I arrived at what appeared to be the edge of a town. There were a couple buildings scattered about. I firmly paused and wiped off my dripping face with the shirt. Well, time to make a good appearance. 


	4. Ah, a Bar

One

I pulled my thin, red T-shirt on and casually walked down the gravel road that obviously led into the town. Quickly, I combed my hair back so I wouldn't look like such an animal. 

It was a good half a mile walk uphill to the city. The city was a fair size, not exceptionally big, nor small. I was pleased. Not the type of city Lydecker would come looking for me in. 

I walked slowly down the cracked sidewalks, enjoying the new sights and sounds of this city. People were bustling about, not noticing nor truly caring about me. I liked it that way. 

There were stores of all type, thriving in this Canadian environment. Clothing stores that boasted the finest threads in the city. Restaurants that sent out smells so delicious that even I had a hard time controlling my rumbling stomach. Car dealerships with sleazy salesmen. I smiled, despite my situation at the time. 

As I walked down the sidewalks, trying not to be noticed, I realized I needed something to eat. And it wasn't just because of the tempting restaurants. I needed something to eat or else I was going to literally starve. 

Something cheap, something easy in a place I could blend in wearing my street clothes. As if in answer to my situation, I found myself stopping in front of a building. Ah, a bar. Cheap food and roadies that wouldn't be able to distinguish me if they had to. 

I turned and entered, pushing the flimsy screen door aside. The bar was mostly empty, as I had suspected it would be in the daylight hours. A couple people looked up as I entered, mostly women, I noticed. I felt my face burn in the dim lighting-I didn't like the admiration. 

Slowly, I wandered down to the actual bar and slung my leg over the stool. A bleary eyed, beer-bellied bartender turned to me. "Whatcha havin'?" he asked, bored. 

"What is there that's cheap?" 

The man smiled and nodded. "You want cheap?" 

"Yeah, don't got a lot of money on me," I admitted. 

"I can do that." He turned slowly and pulled a bottle off the shelf and filled up a glass cup. "Here ya go," he said, handing the cup to me. 

Cautiously, I sniffed at it. Smelled safe enough. I took a tiny sip. The drink was bitter, as all alcohol was. Yet, it satisfied me. Good enough. 

I sat, hunched over, drinking quietly. A couple men gave me the eye, but I looked away, pretending not to notice. As I sat there, I noticed the pool table was free and headed over, bored with just sitting. I had to keep occupied or else the memories were going to start nipping at me again. 

Easily, I broke the triangle of colored balls in the middle of the green sea of the pool table. Two balls sank in the holes. This brought a couple people to stand and look at my skill. Another shot caused three more balls to go ricocheting into the holes. There was some fair staccato claps. Big deal. 

As I bent over again to shoot, I felt the presence of eyes on me. Slowly I stood up and turned around. Two woman sat at the bar staring at me. "Look," I said, "if you want to talk, talk to me, not my ass." They laughed and one of them stood up and walked towards me. She had tight blond curls and glittering green eyes complimenting her curvy body dressed in black leather jeans and a midnight blue T-shirt. She couldn't have been much older than me. 

"Well," she mocked, "I'll talk to you now, seein' how I know whatcha look like." I didn't reply. She stuck out her hand forcefully. "Name's Carly. What's yours?" 

I accepted her hand and shook it politely. "Zack," I replied. 


	5. Always a Contest

One

"Zack," she said thoughtfully, examining me like I was some horse you could just buy at the market. "Me and my friend, Erika, were just watchin' you shoot. Got a nice aim." 

"Thanks," I replied, not wanting to turn back to the game and have them admire my rear from afar. 

She smiled, revealing her teeth that were in great condition. Unusual for people nowadays, with so few good doctors. 

I shifted the pool stick to my left hand and leaned against the table casually. Had to blend in with these people. If I looked up tight, even that little fact could point me out to Lydecker if he happened to come by later. 

"You practice a lot?" she asked. 

"No, not really." 

She frowned. "You must just be extra special," she said, switching to a teasing manner and poking me gently in the chest. Instantly, I recoiled and laid a hand over the spot. Dare she touch me again, and I may have to slap her. My body, my business. 

Carly turned away from me and to the fat bartender. "Hey Louie, when's the games?" she asked. I watched, waiting for her to leave. 

"Tomorrow night and then, the night afta that," he said, his voice thick with alcohol. 

"Thanks," she replied, flashing a cheap, 'I'm so good' smile. She turned back to me. 

I crossed my arms, resting the pool stick on the table. I needed to get going. My stomach was partially full and therefore, I could survive for a little bit before needing food again. Besides, I couldn't wear out my welcome. Yet, Carly had other plans in mind. 

"You gonna be here tomorrow?" she asked. 

"I don't know," I admitted. And, truthfully, I really didn't. If Lydecker came into town, I'd be gone. If he didn't, and I had reason to stay, then sure, I'd stay. 

"You should." 

"How come?" 

"Tomorrow night, there's always a contest here for pool." She shrugged. "It brings publicity to this place and it's fairly entertaining as well." 

"Yeah? So, what's your point?" I didn't feel like gabbing all day with some girl. I didn't do social talking. I make my point and go. Simple as that. 

"From what I've seen, you don't got much money. So, seeing how the prizes are cash for this pool contest, I thought you might want to enter." 

"How much?" I asked her. Hell, if it was cash, I might just decide to stay around. Pool was just a simple matter of calculations of physics. No big deal. I could easily win. 

Carly bit the bottom of her rosy lip. "I think it's like ten to twenty bucks. Not much, but it's not bad money, either." 

"True," I agreed. Even if I got ten, I'd be happy. Money was money. 

"So you comin'?" 

"Why are you so worried if I do or don't come?" I retorted. 

"I think you'd be good at it," she lied. Her mind was obviously thinking about other things. Other things that I really didn't want to get into. 

"I'll see what happens." 

"Great," she smiled. I turned quickly and headed out the door, hoping Carly and her friend weren't eyeing me again. 

Hmmm…money for something that came with such ease. Of course, a normal human couldn't have such ease at a game like that. And as always, I thought with a wry smile, you, Donald Lydecker, manage to weasel your way into my life once again. Thanks for nothing. 


	6. Fat Fluffballs

One

I wandered up and down the streets in the quickly fading daylight. I needed to find a place to stay where I wasn't going to get mugged. Not that that was a huge problem of mine, anyhow. Seeing how I sleep very lightly and can snap in a second, people have a difficult time sneaking up on me. The last guy that tried to rob me of my last dollar got flattened into the ground. Quite literally. 

Down the street, I spotted a dirt road leading back into an open field dotted by fat sheep. Sheep. Fat fluffballs that would rather stare at their enemy stupidly and die than fight back. Still, they did make for some nice warm company at night. 

Keeping the same pace, I strolled over to where the sheep were being kept. They waddled up to me, staring with their big black eyes. I swung one leg over the broken and rotting fence and landed on the dirt scattered with tiny tuffs of grass. 

The sheep followed me, probably suspecting I would feed them. Hey, don't look to me for food, buddies. I barely have enough for myself. 

The field wasn't very big, probably about the size of a typical basketball court, times two. Yet, the sheep seemed happy enough with it. No reason for me to complain. 

I sighed deeply and walked to the edge of the fencing. By that time, the sheep had given up me. They were probably saying what a rotten person I was for not feeding them. Hey, sorry guys…gals…whatever. 

The fencing on this side of the field was in much better condition than that on the other side of the field. Therefore, seeing how it would probably be able to support me, I swung leg over it and sat on one of the large beams that held up the fence. I leaned back against the cold metal barn that connected with the fence and gazed out. 

Far beyond, I could see another city. Perhaps Tinga was there. I didn't know. She had her own life. I had mine. Just like the rest of my friends. They had their lives, complete with friends, family perhaps, homes, and who knew what else. I had me. That was pretty much it. 

My mind wandered-not something I liked to do. But, I couldn't help it this time. Usually I could control my frivolous daydreams. Yet, seeing how it was close to nighttime and I was tired, I let myself lapse into space. 

The pool contest. If I stuck around just long enough, I might be able to get some more money and move farther away from Lydecker. Perhaps Lydecker would just leave me alone. 

Unfortunately, he couldn't and both he and I knew it. He had raised me from a little blob of cells to a kid. Stupidity had forced me to stay with him. Had I been smarter, I would've escaped much earlier. But, still, for the others, it wouldn't have been time and they couldn't have gone by themselves without me to lead them. They probably wouldn't have made it past the guards anyhow. 

The thought of finally escaping Lydecker lulled me into a light sleep. When I awoke later that night, I wasn't sure whether to be thankful or angry for the sleep. 

Dreams can hurt. 


	7. Nightmares come to eat your mind

One

Overhead, the stars burned brightly in the sea of blackness. The moon was large and full illuminating the world below. I wondered briefly to myself if the others were seeing what I was seeing. Perhaps. 

It was somewhat of a comforting thought, which should've pacified me, but like I've said before, I don't deal with sentimentalities. If they were looking up at the sky as well, so be it. I wasn't about to start a big emotional moment over the moon. 

I glanced around me, and noticed that nearly the whole city was silent as well. Not having a watch, I wasn't sure of what time it was. Most likely a little after midnight. But, that was just a rough estimate on my part. 

Even though I was exhausted from not having slept enough, the Sand Man didn't come. I didn't want him to and I certainly wasn't about to start counting the sheep. Besides, they were most likely too fat to even get off the ground and bounce over the fence so I could count them. 

Anyhow, sleep can even be dangerous, for that's when the nightmares come to eat your mind. Usually the nightmares wouldn't bother me for too long. Just a fresh sting in the rear and I'd continue on my way. Nothing more. 

But lately, the nightmares had been getting worse and more violent, forcing me to wonder if it was just me or the asinine genetic coding of mine. Could be a bit of both, but I wasn't entirely sure. 

The most recent bad dream that wouldn't allow me to sleep, had been about Lydecker. He had been back at Manticore with the others. But they were all children. And he just whipped out a gun and bang, bang, bang, he killed them all. I tried to save them and ended up with a bullet in my chest as well. He laughed, which is something I hadn't ever seen him do. Still, the laugh haunted me until I woke up in a cold sweat. 

Like I said, the dreams had been getting more and more violent. Sometimes I would wake up nauseated from the images my brain produced. I didn't know why I dreamt the things I did. It may have been my subconscious portraying my worst fears. Of course, one of my worse fears was that all the escapees and I were going to be captured one day and killed. I try not to dwell on the fact, but it haunts me nonetheless. 

I yawned and straightened my back against the cold aluminum siding of the barn. My stomach growled impatiently and I pleaded with it to shut up. Obviously the energy from the cheap beer, or whatever the bartender had given me, was worn off. Great, I thought sarcastically. More money that I had to spend on food just so I could survive. 

Swinging one leg over, I landed on the opposite side of the fence that I had entered through. One of the sheep looked up at me, confused as to why I was leaving. If they had understood me, I could've told them a reason. I would've told them that I was just as confused as they were most of the time. 

And considering that sheep aren't the brightest creatures in the world, I wondered if I was just plain stupid. Immediately, I recoiled upon that thought. I'm not stupid, I bit silently to myself. Just insanely and utterly confused about my life. That's all. 


	8. Food was food

One

Morning finally arrived after I had waited rather impatiently for it all night long. After morning came nighttime and with night came the prospect of money. Then, I could take the money and run before Lydecker decided to come lurking about. Had to keep on the move or else the enemy was eventually going to catch up with you. All smart people should know that unspoken rule. Unfortunately, for the human population, some people aren't that intelligent. 

I walked down the sidewalk among very few other people. Not many other people are out at daybreak. Guess I'm just odd. 

My stomach was growling and I hated that fact. Hated the fact that I had to stop and eat when I could be doing much more important things. Food didn't interest me. So, I didn't have a favorite food or one I despised, like most people. Food was food. Something you eat and crap out later on. That's really all there was to it. 

But, seeing how I wasn't immortal and needed to eat, I began to look for somewhere I could grab a quick meal without being too conspicuous. Harder than it sounds. Walking into a restaurant at close to six o'clock in the morning will get anybody noticed. As if in anger, my stomach growled again, and I decided I'd better get something to eat. 

I turned down another street and found that there were indeed some places open at the early hour. Most were cheap, family owned restaurants that prided themselves on, "The best breakfast food in the city". Breakfast. That would work for me. 

A small building huddled in between some other street shops caught my attention as a distinguished looking couple exited, carrying doggie bags with leftover food. Sad, I thought to myself, their pet animal gets fed better than I do. A pity too. 

Still, I decided not to stand there and wallow in my self-misery that a dog was getting fed better than me and walked into the restaurant. 

There were a couple people inside, most busy reading the paper. Perfect. They wouldn't notice me at all with their noses shoved in the reading. The lights inside the building were much dimmer than the bright sun outside and it took a bit of time before my eyes totally adjusted. Scattered about the rusty carpeting were tables with chairs, some even having people sitting at them. Off to the side, there was a bar like area where people could sit on the stools and eat even though a sign proclaimed that no alcoholic beverages were served. 

Choosing not to mingle with the other people, I casually strolled over to that area and pulled up a tippy stool. An old lady with far too many wrinkles and sags greeted me and rattled off a menu order. She was bored with her job and was most likely tired of having to serve people over and over and over. 

I decided to have a muffin. Muffins couldn't be that expensive-could they? Well, if it was too pricey, I'd just have to grab the freaking muffin and run like crazy so they didn't send the cops after me for stealing a muffin. I laughed quietly to myself at the thought of being accused as a "muffin robber". 

"Well, well, well, guess you decided to stick around after all," a voice said. I looked up, not sure if they were talking to me. Standing in front of me behind the counter was nobody else besides Carly. 


	9. I Grabbed the Muffin

One

I froze, not knowing what to say to her comment. She smiled her big flashy smile that was supposed to make me smile back. I didn't. 

"Did you get waited on?" she asked me. 

I nodded. "Yeah, I did." 

"Old lady?" 

I nodded again. 

"That'd be my mom." 

"Family business?" I asked. 

"Yeah. Not exactly the place I want to be working after I get married and have kids…but it does the job for now." 

"You're getting married?" She seemed awfully young to be getting married, and I would've been rather amused if she was. Tramp. 

Carly wound a piece of her hair around her finger. "No, not any time soon. I'm just waiting for that person…" she drawled. Instantly I froze. I couldn't even touch the muffin that was laid in front of me when the lady gave it to me. Carly was looking right at me. And I knew damn well what she was thinking to herself, "Well, will he do?" No, I won't do for something like you, I mentally snapped at her. 

Coming out of her dreamy state, Carly pointed to my muffin. "You can eat that, y'know." 

"I know that. That's what you're supposed to do with food." She laughed as if I had said something truly amusing and strolled away to wait on another customer. 

I grabbed the muffin, wrapped it in a napkin and hurried out of the place as quickly as I could without attracting too much attention. As I nearly bolted out of there, not a single person looked up. There is a God. 

Once out on the streets, I unwrapped my still warm breakfast and began to pick at it, shoving the pieces into my mouth. It was delicious. Absolutely and utterly delicious. Warm and fragrant with cinnamon. 

If I had had a real life, my mom would've made food like this. Good food instead of the pig slop we were fed at Manticore. My dad would've-Stop! Don't start this, I told myself. It's the food talking. That's all it is. I don't have real parents and this is just food. Just food. 

I continued to walk down the sidewalk, oblivious to the other people around me. I needed something to do or else the memories were going to start biting again. Couldn't risk that. Had to keep busy. Had to find something to do. 

I reached what appeared to be a park like area. There were a couple people, mostly early morning joggers, in the park. A tiny bridge over looked a narrow stream. 

Throwing one leg over, I sat on the rail of the bridge, hoping that it would support my weight. Fortunately, it did. 

I opened my hand and stared at the muffin. With a sudden rage, I shoved the muffin in my mouth, violently almost. A couple people looked at me as I tried to chew the muffin that was bulging in my mouth. I must've looked like an absolute hog. Oink. 


	10. Spilling its Bright Lights

One

The sun, rising in the morning, burned my eyes as it came up over the little creek. I groaned and hopped back off the bridge to avoid having my eyes poached like eggs. 

I had to kill time, there wasn't really anything else I could do until later that night. Slowly, I walked down the streets, which were beginning to finally fill with people as the hour became later in the morning. 

Very few people bothered to even glance at me, which, of course, I preferred anyhow. Those that did stop and look were mostly teenage girls who admired me as if I was some sort of display in the store that they could just pick up and buy. Eventually, I would just stare them away and they would hurry away in a flurry of high-pitched giggles. Didn't understand them. 

I didn't understand people in general. Hell, I couldn't even understand myself most of the time. I tried to look like I knew what I was doing, pretending I really was strong Napoleon on his horse. But even I had my moments of weakness. The moments that are better off being burned than ever coming back again. The kind of moments that separate the idiots from the intelligent and determine those in between. 

I could deny almost anything. I could forget close to everything. But, I could never be nothing. I had to keep on proving that I was worthy of the position Lydecker had given me so many years ago. Didn't matter that I hated the bastard, just mattered that I had to keep following the line. And not look back. 

I could go into detail here about how I wandered about the town the entire day, walking up and down the streets, praying for night to drop on top of me, but that would only bore both me and you. Besides, I'm not a poetic person and descriptions aren't my deal. Unless, of course, it's a description of an escape plan from enemy territory…but, that's a whole other matter unto itself. 

Finally, night arrived, a little later than I had hoped, but it came nonetheless. The bar was a noisy place, spilling its bright lights onto the street. It smelled like smoke and reeked of alcohol. I suppressed a wry smile as I thought of the look on Lydecker's face if he saw his prized X-5 entering such a dirty place. An interesting thought. Perhaps the shock alone would be enough to give him a heart attack. Not a bad idea. I would've given it more thought, despite the fact I'm not a normal thinker, but it was time to start the games. 

Louie, the fat bartender, stood in the middle of both men and women. Mostly men, though. I carefully walked up behind everyone and stood, watching and listening. "Alright," Louie was saying. "Most of ya have already got your teams, partners…whatever…picked out. You can only play as single, double or in a group of four," he said, holding up four flabby fingers. "Whoever wants to go first can come up here and register wit' me." 

The men turned to one another, gathering their already picked partners. Slowly, they went through the line, signing their name down on the stained paper. I noticed the women were married and clinging to their husbands like maggots to meat. I, hanging back at the end, was the last in line and therefore, the last to sign up. That meant I would go last. I would have to wait. Dammit. 

I made myself as comfortable as possible as the first two teams went at it. The clock hand moved so slowly that I thought I would pass out right then and there. Yet, the people did begin to dwindle down as the losers left the bar, disgusted with both themselves and their teammates. 

Louie looked down at the list he held in his fat left hand. It took him awhile to comprehend what he was looking at. The man must've had serious brain problems. A husband and wife team waited impatiently to take on the next victim. They were good, having won all of their games that night. The person to take them on was going to have a challenge. 

Lifting his head, Louie looked around the bar, reading the name off the list, questioning almost. "Zack?" 


	11. Against the Champions

One

"That'd be me," I replied, rising to my feet. Immediately, a hundred eyes focused upon me, having never seen me before. 

"Aiight," Louie replied. "You go against…uh…Olivia and Aaron," he said, reading off the list. "You know the rules-don't cha?" 

I nodded and grabbed a stick that was lying against a table. "Let's go." 

Olivia grinned, ready to tear into me. Hey, girl, I've got harder skin than you'd think. Even Aaron looked smug, as if I was just the next punkster kid that happened to challenge them. I wanted to grab them both by the collars and tell them that they were going to be wiping those smirks off their faces faster than they thought. But, I could wait. They'd cry soon enough. 

As the opponent against the champions, I was allowed to break first. In a matter of seconds, I figured out how hard I was going to have to push the balls to go in the direction I wanted them to. I let the stick fly right towards the creamy white ball. There was a cracking sound as the balls split and headed to their dark homes at the corner of the tables. 

I looked away for a split second, hearing something behind me. When I looked back to the table, I realized I didn't know how many I'd sunk. But, the shocked looks on Olivia's and Aaron's faces told me that they weren't going to be winning easily. Perfect. 

Backing away from the table, I rested my hands on the top of the pool stick, despite the fact I was getting chalk all over my palms. Aaron and Olivia whispered to each other about which ball to aim for that would have the best chance of being sunk. 

Olivia bent over the table, the pool stick cradled in between her neatly manicured fingers. She was rather nervous, I could see it. Hopefully, this would cause her to mess up. 

But, I wouldn't rely on that factor. That was just hoping for good luck. Good luck? The words don't exist together in my vocabulary. 

In a swan-like move, she sent two balls spiraling across the sea-green table. One of them landed in a hole, the other teetered on the edge, but didn't enter its home. Olivia cursed silently and began to chew on a nail as I bent down to take aim. 

This time I didn't even bother to line up my shot beforehand. I just shot. Not removing my eyes from the table, I watched impatiently as three striped balls landed in the corner pockets of the table. 

There was a fair amount of clapping, but Aaron and Olivia were starting to get irritated. Good. They deserved to have somebody knock them on their asses after being claimed as the champions they weren't. Besides, it would be nice to get the first place cash. I needed it more than they did. 

Aaron, this time, lined up his aim and shot just two balls into the holes. Again, some people clapped for him, but it wasn't really anything special. 

The game was getting tedious and I just wanted to take the money and run. So, not wasting any time, I examined the situation in front of me. Using my quick reflexes, I sent the rest of the striped balls into the pockets. 

The crowd paused, unsure almost of whether to cheer me on. Then, they burst out into clapping. I rose slowly to an erect position. Lying my pool stick on the table, I met the eyes of Aaron and Olivia and stared at them evenly. I raised my eyebrows, mentally asking them if they were going to say anything. They didn't. 

I think Aaron muttered a gruff, "good game". But, I couldn't have been entirely sure. Didn't matter much anyhow, I had just been appointed the new leader of the game. Sure, Aaron and Olivia were going to have to challenge the loser of my game, but, they wouldn't be on top again. Hah. I almost raised the pool stick above my head in a warlike manner and almost cried out with pure joy that for once, I was almost actually happy in what I was doing. 

Almost. 


	12. Nice Game

One

The night wore on tediously, with the pace of a hamster running on its wheel. Over and over and over the same pattern occurred. I would be challenged and the person would lose. Needless to say, I remained champion through the night. The feeling was exhilarating, that I had once again claimed my place as the leader. 

Finally, it was the last challenge. Whoever won this would be first place, the loser getting second and I wasn't sure who was going to get third. Not that it really mattered anyhow. 

Not tiring, I cracked my fingers, ready to play whoever stepped from the dwindling crowd. A man stepped from the crowd as Louie called off the name, "Kyle." 

Surprisingly, only one person came forward. He was one of the few single players, including myself, that I had seen all night. Either this man thought he was really good or was just plain stupid. Didn't matter to me anyway. 

Kyle grabbed a pool stick off the table and began to chalk it, twisting the small, pink cube of chalk on the top of it. I observed him carefully, wondering what would cause this human to challenge me, knowing that I would probably beat him. It was, indeed, an interesting thought. 

He had to be at least twice my age. Perhaps not that much, but he definitely was older than I was. His hair used to be blond, like mine, but now was washed out and faded defiantly. Moving with such ease, I began to reconsider about his age estimate. But, seeing the slight wrinkles upon his skin, I quickly forgot that thought and stayed with my original. 

Wearing faded blue jeans, Kyle bent over and hit the white ball, sending it spiraling across the table where it instantly knocked a single red ball in. The crowd clapped, pleased that somebody might just beat me. 

I rolled my eyes silently and bent down, planned my move and shot. Three striped balls landed in the holes. Kyle didn't seem fazed. He simply positioned his stick and let two more balls go into their homes. Saying nothing to me, he moved out of my way so I could get a clear shot. 

Again, I shot and this time only two balls became sunk. Kyle aimed and two of the full-colored balls ricocheted off the siding and into the holes. Slowly, he looked up at me, raising one of his fading silver eyebrows. "Your turn." 

I wasn't sure if the gesture was meant to be mocking or not. Firmly, I clenched my jaw, feeling the bubbling anger start to brew. I'm a temperamental person, I'll admit it. It's not a fact I'm particularly proud of, but that's life. Not to mention, when I start to fume, I begin to get a little too forceful. 

Immediately, in one quick slash, I sent the rest of the striped balls into the corners. The force was a little bit too strong, for the creamy ball flew off the table after it collided with the rest of those on the table and nearly hit Olivia in the head. She shrieked and covered her curly blond head. 

I didn't bother to apologize and Kyle merely looked at me, curious almost. He stuck out his arm, covered in a blue jean coat. "Nice game," he commented. 

Slightly stunned that someone would ever say that to me, I paused before accepting his handshake cautiously. "Yeah…uh…you too," I mumbled. 

The crowd parted as Louie stepped forward and handed me a crinkled twenty-dollar bill, Kyle received a ten, and Olivia and Aaron got a five. "Nice game, ev'rybody. Remember, tomorrow night-game." 

Slowly, the crowd trudged out, some disgusted with the way I had come in and whipped everybody else's asses, others were pleased that it wasn't the same old, same old. I waited until the crowd had left before placing my pool stick on the table and reluctantly turning to leave. 

"That was a good game," Louie said from behind me. 

I turned around hesitantly and stared evenly at him. "Thanks…I guess," I replied, trying to remember _some_ manners. 

"You gonna be back tomorrow night?" 

I shrugged. "We'll see." 

Louie grinned as he slapped a wet rag down on the bar and began to wipe it down. "Hopefully, we'll see you back tomorrow." 

Smiling faintly, I turned and left the tiny bar, heading out onto the streets. Outside, the sky was pitch black, as if daring a single cloud to come and adulterate its perfection. The moon, a silvery slit in the sky, grinned down at me, seemingly enjoying my happiness for once. 

I pulled my black leather jacket on a little bit tighter due to the cool night air and headed alone, down the street. Tomorrow. Sigh. Yet another day to determine whether Lydecker dares to appear. I remembered my words to Louie and laughed in spite of myself. I'm not normally a laughing person, but the sarcasm I had displayed now came back to haunt me as I thought of Lydecker and his decision to "stop by". 

"We'll see."


	13. Wings Upon Her Feet

One

I walked around town, bored, for some time before determining that going in circles around the block wouldn't do any good for me. Besides, I'd just end up looking crazier than I really was. (And how crazy is that?) 

Finally, I stopped at an old, abandoned barn, (not the one with the sheep, though). There were two black horses in wooden stalls that looked at me as if to say, "What do you think you're doing here?" A couple bales of musty straw, along with some pieces of plain straw were scattered across the gravel-covered ground. Perfect, a comfortable bed for once-although I didn't exactly plan to sleep. But, at least I could rest. Not sleep. Rest. 

I approached the horses after my quick glance around the barn. They nickered and tossed their heads in the dark shadows. I reached out almost cautiously, slightly afraid that they would bite me. But, when my fingers made contact with the cool velvet nose of one of the great animals, I knew they wouldn't dare hurt me. I stroked my hand across the horse's nose, sprawling my fingers out in a pitiful attempt to try and cover the entire, long nose of the animal. Gently, I ran my fingers over the ears covered in bristly hairs. The delicate ears twitched underneath my fingers, and the horse snorted, blowing air on me. Big, glassy eyes stared at me, telling me all that I needed to know. 

I grinned slightly. I understood what they wanted. 

Walking around to the back of the horses' stalls, I pulled a leather knotted bridle off a rusty nail. The leather was smooth and beautifully tanned. It would work. 

I returned back to the horses and reached out to them once again. Oh, how they wanted to be free! Carefully, I put the bridle on and opened the stall door. Patiently, I led the large horse out, her head raised high. 

We walked out of the barn together, leaving her fellow horse behind. Only one was needed. She twitched anxiously as we stepped into the cool night air, blowing hot steam everywhere. Gently, I stroked her side, hoping that she was calm. 

Then, grabbing onto the bridle, I swung myself up onto her back. She flinched upon my weight arriving onto her back, but didn't move away, for she was ready to go. 

Cautiously, I held the bridle loosely in my sweaty palms. Amazingly, I was somewhat nervous about riding a horse-I never had before. Yet, I had always wanted to. I couldn't back out now. 

Gently, I kicked my foot in her side, nudging her forward. She nickered softly and began to walk forward, probably just as confused as I was as to what we were going to do. 

We moved together at a steady pace, covering a small part of the large, open field. Her feet padded lightly across the grass covered in dew at such a late hour. All around, the crickets chirped, and the spring peepers sang. 

Tightening my grip on the worn leather bridle, I pushed my foot into her side again and muttered something that sounded like giddy-up. Hell, I didn't know what I was doing, but it sure sounded good. 

There was a slight pause as she considered the request I had asked of her. Then, in one fluid motion, she took off. Instinctively, my hands tightened on the bridle, the adrenaline pumping through my veins. 

We flew across the open field, covering more distance than I thought possible. She was enjoying it more than I was, as she turned sharp corners and galloped swiftly like she had wings upon her feet. 

Above, the moonlight danced on the wet grass as the wind whistled through my hair. The night air was cold, and our breath came out in tiny puffs as we whipped across the field. Her powerful legs were pounding, her hooves beating the ground mercilessly. 

Feeling braver, I let go of the reins carefully and let my hands go above my head. The wind flew through my fingers, and I felt as though I could snatch it up, holding it close forever. 

In that one perfect moment, that moment in which I became one with such a majestic animal as we flew across the field like bird, I was free. Free of everything that had ever haunted me in my entire life. Lydecker. Manticore. Dreams that had died upon my lips. Love that I had never had. Everything left me. 

Everything but the simple fact that I was free. 


	14. I'll be There

One

I met up with Carly later the next day. Well, technically, she met up with me…but that's not the point. The point is that I saw her again. 

Walking down one of the main streets, I was scooping out the environment, bored, and basically killing time until that night when I could win some more money. It was probably a little bit after noontime, but I couldn't be sure, seeing how I didn't own a watch and wasn't about to invest my measly twenty bucks into one. 

Anyhow, back to original topic… 

With my hands shoved into my worn pockets, I casually strolled down the street, admiring the things in the window, despite the fact I could never have enough money to buy them. 

"Zack!" I stopped and slowly turned around to see Carly coming up behind me, her sneakers slapping the sidewalk beneath. She was wearing a pair of tight fitting track pants with what appeared to be just a sports bra. Couldn't be sure. Women's clothing isn't my specialty, nor should it be. 

Her blond hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail and she was glistening from sweat. She took a deep breath as she approached me and laid her hand on my shoulder. Instinctively, I moved away, not liking being touched by her. 

"So," she began, either not noticing my rejection of her affection or not caring, "how did last night go?" 

"Last night?" I echoed. 

"The pool game-didja win or what?" 

"I won," I answered flatly. It was a simple fact, no need bragging or screaming excitedly that I had won a rather small amount. 

"Good job," she replied, flashing her big grin and patting me on the back. Again, I stiffened under the gesture and backed away a little bit. She considered this carefully, her tiny eyebrows twisting into a knot on the bridge of her nose. "You sunburned or something?" 

"What?" 

"You sure don't like people touching you-do you? I'm not poisonous," she said with a tiny laugh. 

"Never said that," I replied defensively, my natural barriers being put up to protect myself from revealing anything that I shouldn't. 

"You don't have to say it, Zack, 'cause it's pretty obvious," Carly told me as she adjusted her top strap, exposing her shoulder. I glanced at the ground, somewhat embarrassed by her gesture. "What? Is there something wrong with me?" she asked in a joking manner, placing her hands on her hips. 

"Uh…no…it's me," I mumbled and turned away, running my fingers through my hair, exasperated. 

"I'll be there tonight cheering for you!" she called from behind me. 

"Great," I muttered, walking away as I waved to her, showing that I had heard her. 

"Yeah! Same to you too!" she yelled. I continued walking, attempting to tune her out. Eventually, I heard her jogging away and turned back around cautiously. 

Sure enough, she had turned a corner and was moving out of sight. I sighed and plopped down on a nearby bench. 

The girl disturbed me slightly, yet also intrigued me. It had been awhile since I had met a person who could do both with such ease, and I wasn't sure what to think of it. I wasn't sure what to think of her. 

Well, I thought with another sigh, Carly sure knows what she thinks of you, I told myself…And whether that be a good thing or a bad thing, I just don't know yet. Nor, did I want to know right then. 


	15. Games Would Start

One

Eventually, I began to get hungry, and was forced to split my twenty. I bought a rather cheap, but nice, meal at a different restaurant than the one I had gotten breakfast at earlier. (Couldn't risk running into Carly again.) 

I bought a hamburger, which was cheap and easy. In less than a minute, the hamburger was gone. Yes, sadly, I was _that_ hungry. 

The waitress who served me winked. "Sure are hungry-aren't ya?" 

I mumbled something between a yes and a shut up, and handed her the twenty to split. She left, coming back quickly with the change. Of course, I counted it to make sure she had given me the right amount. If people decided to cheat me, they were going to get it. I wasn't one to take lightly to mistakes. 

Call me a jerk, if you want. Call me an asshole, but that's the way I am. It's the way I was trained. And, good or bad, that training isn't going anywhere for the rest of my life. 

I would always be on guard, always be poised and ready for anything. My position as leader would never be forgotten. I knew some, ok, most, of my fellow escapees hated me for that. For never letting go of the fact that I was above them. It wasn't like I intentionally meant to harass, belittle, and purposely insult them. Seriously, it was all just part of my subconscious doing. 

Leaving the restaurant, I noticed that evening was finally starting to come-I thought it never would. Perhaps the games would start earlier. I could only hope. 

So, I headed on over to the bar across town some ways. Already people were starting to trickle in, coming to watch, perhaps, or play. Didn't matter either way. I wanted that money and I was going to get it. No questions asked. 

As I was entering, a hand touched my arm, and I turned in the direction. Obviously, Carly was there, smiling as always. 

"Good to see you too," she said almost sarcastically, mocking the look of disgust I had placed on my face. 

"Hello Carly," I muttered and entered the building. She followed, not far behind, and looked around. 

"Damn, there are a lot of people here-you sure you can beat them? You got anything up your sleeve? Luck, perhaps?" 

"There's no such thing. Success depends on having a well-thought out plan that's executed with precision," I told her. 

"Really?" she asked, raising a perfectly tweezed eyebrow. "Well, if that's the case, then you obviously have your plan set up already-don't you?" 

"Perhaps." 

The routine was similar to the previous night's. Everyone stood in a long line and signed their name. Despite the fact I had won earlier, Louie said it didn't matter. They started from a clean slate. What he wanted to say was that I could very well lose. I wasn't going to allow something like that. 

The games wore on, and I eventually was able to make myself comfortable at a table in the back. Carly sat by me and let her hand rest gently on my leather jacket. Sick and tired of having to shake her off, I let her hand lie. Personally, the girl intrigued me…and I wasn't sure if I liked having those kinds of feelings for someone. 

Finally, it was my turn. Finally. Carly rose to her feet and clapped as I walked over to the pool table. 

My head instantly swirled, too shocked to think of anything else besides Carly's applause. God. What was I going to do now? 


	16. My Sixth Senses

One

I froze, unsure what to do. Should I slap the girl and tell her to be quiet? Or, ignore it like nothing had happened? 

I didn't have long to think, for after my brief meditation on my next move, Carly sauntered over beside me, letting her arm hang over my shoulder. Surprisingly, she was close to my height. I had never noticed that about her before. 

She punched me playfully on the arm as the person who had played before me handed me a stick. "Go get 'em, slugger." 

"I'm not in a baseball game," I retorted under my breath, shaking her off. I bent down, aimed and shot. 

Kyle, the guy from last night, was my opponent this time. He stood across the pool table; his arms crossed loosely about his chest and watched me carefully. I really didn't care what the hell he was doing. Just give me my money, people, and let me leave. 

"Hey," Carly said to me with a nod of her heads towards Kyle, "he looks a lot like you." 

"What?" I asked, for I hadn't been listening to a word that she was saying. All she really was was a mosquito in my ear. Hopefully, one that could be slapped away quickly enough. But, humans are not mosquitoes, and it usually takes a little bit more than a slap to get them to leave. 

"Kyle? Is that his name?" 

"Yeah." 

"Well, he looks a lot like you," she repeated. 

"Bull-shit," I hissed and shot the ball again, landing three striped balls in the pockets. Really, it was rather ridiculous that another person could look like me. Manticore had created my DNA specially for me…and my hundred other clones. But, forgetting the clone part, I had to wonder if it was at all possible for at least my parents to bear some resemblance to me. Not that it mattered anyhow, I didn't care. 

Despite the fact I was a genetically engineered human freak of nature, I still had to have had parents. With a dismissive shake of my head, I tried to obliterate the thought completely as they had been for the entire part of my life.

The game ended rather swiftly, to my surprise. But, then, I hadn't really been paying attention for most of the game-off in my own little world, trying to figure out my screwed up genetics. 

Not surprisingly though, I had won, which caused Carly to cheer with overly enthusiastic claps and whistles. I turned away from the pool table as another pair of teams began to threaten each other. It wasn't my time to go ahead and whip everybody's asses. I would come back to retrieve victory later, not now. 

As I sat down at the table, with Carly following right behind, I noticed there was another person sitting at the table. They wore a floppy hat, covering most of their face, but I knew they were still able to see me. 

I instantly prickled, my sixth senses firing rapid messages at me that something bad was about to happen. Surprisingly, Carly even seemed to notice and leaned in closer to me. Her silky lips barely grazed the skin of my ear as she whispered, "Who is that person?" 

Slowly, I turned to look at her, the shadows of the dimly lit bar clouding her face. "I don't know," I admitted. "Look, I'm going to get something to drink-you want anything?" I asked her, looking for both an excuse to get away from her and the mysterious person. 

She smiled happily, pleased that I actually seemed to be showing some interest in her. "I'll have a martini with a twist." 

I rose swiftly to my feet and made my way over to the actual bar area and threw one leg over the stool. Louie, wiping off the counter, took my orders eagerly and headed back to get the drinks. 

As I waited for him, I noticed that the mysterious visitor had made their way over to a nearby barstool. I glanced at them, then back at the rows of glittering glass bottles. 

"Zack," someone said, and this time I knew it wasn't Carly. Instinctively, I turned in the direction of the voice to see the shadow person coming towards me. Slowly, I rose to my feet, realizing that my best defense was the intimidation of my height. 

"Who are you?" I asked through gritted teeth. 

The person chuckled, indicating that it was a female beneath the hat mask. "You disappoint me, really, you do," they told me. 

"Who the hell are you?" I hissed. 

Slowly, the person lifted up the corner of their hat, and I felt my insides freeze as I realized what I was dealing with. 

Brin. 

The messenger of the devil himself. 


	17. A Witch's Smile

One

I stared evenly at her, trying not to show any emotion, despite the fact that inside I was screaming. A repetitive chant of "my god, my god, my god…" had formed in my mind, as I panicked. Yet, outside, I had to remain cool and calm. Never let the enemy know you are weak. 

"Brin," I stated, not sure what else to say. 

"I'm surprised you remembered." 

"Why are you here?" I asked, lowering my voice a decibel. 

"Think, Zack, think." She was wearing a long trench coat, covering up her clothing. But, even I, who had the least amount of fashion sense as anybody, could see that black military boots don't match a brown trench coat. Her black, shiny hair was pulled back tightly into a bun. 

I didn't answer her, but shook my head slightly, indicating that I wanted her to answer. 

She smiled slightly, a witch's smile. "You really are rather pathetic. A pity. A captain dropping below that of his soldiers." Brin shook her head almost as if she was sorry. "I thought you were better than that." 

"Why are you here?" I repeated quietly, trying not to draw too much attention, especially if Carly was watching us. She couldn't be drawn into my problems. 

"You," Brin answered. 

"Lydecker's here then?" I asked her. 

"Not here, but he's around, yes." 

"So, you guys have been following me-is that it? Waiting for the perfect moment to decide and bring me back? Forget it, I'll never go back to Manticore. I'd rather die." 

"Manticore isn't the enemy." 

"No? Well, you and Lydecker definitely are." I stepped closer to her, glaring down at her. "Get away and out of my life," I hissed. 

She stared up at me, her eyes betraying nothing. They had trained her better than I would've hoped. "Don't push me," she warned. "You know, I could snap your neck right now and nobody would even look up as your body fell to the ground, big brother. You'd just be another drunk in this miserable world." 

I backed away, ready to run and get out of this situation before things got out of control. That's when I saw her pull out a two-way, and I no longer cared what anybody else saw or did think. I had to protect myself now. 

In a flash, I knocked the beeping device to the ground, and crushed it under my foot, grinding the plastic and glass into the wooden floor. Before I knew what was happening, Brin delivered a sharp upper-cut to my chin. I swayed, but not for long. She had me on training, but I had strength, and I wasn't going down without a fight. 

My fist shot out and blood erupted from her nose, then I delivered a sharp blow to her leg, pushing her away slightly. But, Brin wasn't about to be outdone. She came towards me, dancing like a boxer in a ring, delivering sharp jabs to my body, and then with a high kick, slammed me in the shoulder. I fell backwards, landing on an abandoned table, as half-full beer bottles clattered to the floor and smashed, spilling their contents everywhere. A piece of glass jabbed me in the back as I landed on a glass beer bottle and broke it, but I tried not to notice. 

By this time, the entire bar was looking at us. I didn't, I couldn't, care. 

Brin flew up, standing above, her feet on either side of my body, as she grabbed me by the shirt collar, ready to punch me in the temple, and ending it all. But, that wouldn't happen. Doing a backwards somersault, I ended up pushing her to the ground, while I tumbled down in a heap not far from her. Not getting up from my position, I grabbed her legs and gave a heavy kick to one of them. If it didn't break a bone, she certainly would have a bruise. 

Slowly, I stood up, glaring down at the bleeding monster. "Get out of my life," I told her. 

"No, Zack, that's where you're wrong," she said to me, trying so hard not to wince as a crooked smile formed on her face. "Manticore will always be a part of your life." 

I turned away from her and began to run out of the bar. Carly, waiting by the door, grabbed my arm and stared at me, wide-eyed and questioning. Without a second thought, I pulled her along with me, and we hurried away into the night. 

Unfortunately, I knew the nightmares were far from over. The demons had just landed and now they were going to start the war. 


	18. Lydecker is Back

One

We ran. Oh god, did we run. It was the night of the escape all over again. 

The chilly night air whipped past us, whistling through our ears. Our shoes slapped the pavement, the only sound at such a late hour while the stars seemed to grin from above, savoring in our panic. 

I was running, not as fast as I could've, but damn close to it. My right arm was twisted about my back, clutching Carly's cold hand, while my left clawed at air, as if in a desperate attempt to paddle through it. All the muscles in my body were clenched, straining to go faster, despite the burning pain. I could feel blood seeping through my shirt where the glass had dug into my flesh. But I was ignoring it now. I had to if I wanted to survive. 

And a single message screamed through my brain: Lydecker is back. 

Eleven years earlier I had escaped him, with the hope of never returning. He was the man that in my eyes was no better than the devil at times. He created us, trained us, formed us into intelligent humans…all while killing us. 

I never regretted my choice to leave Manticore. The only thing I did regret was that I hadn't left sooner. 

As Carly and I whipped around a corner, she tugged at my arm, begging me to stop. I turned my head around to see, but didn't stop, only slowing down slightly. 

"Zack, we can go back to my place." 

"Where?" 

"Keep on going," she said between heavy breaths as we slowed down to a walking pace. My muscles were trembling, and I was afraid I was going to go into a seizure right then and there. It took all the available strength I had to stop myself from falling to the ground, violently shaking. Carly must've noticed because she turned to me, sweat trickling down her face in the pale moonlight. "You okay?" 

Grabbing my right arm and holding it close to me to stop it from twitching, I nodded faintly. "I'm fine." She couldn't see the blood running down my back underneath my leather jacket. Shadows obscured the puncture hole so that she couldn't have seen the rip. I wouldn't have wanted her to anyhow. 

"You need a doctor." 

"Do not." 

"You're going to go into a seizure or something. Look at you, you can barely stand." She shook her head and sighed. "Besides, here we are." 

It was an apartment building, squished between a deli and a laundromat. Like the rest of the buildings in the city, it was close to collapsing and aged terribly. But, I accepted her invitation. Lydecker would never find us here. And, like Carly had stated, and I refused to admit, I probably was going to go into a seizure if I wasn't careful. She entered first, but held the door open for me as I entered. 

Due to such a late hour, no one was up and about, so we hurried up the stairs, since there was no elevator and headed down a long hallway. 

Fumbling in her pocket for keys, Carly glanced up at me. "You sure you okay?" 

"I said I was fine." 

"Whatever," she mumbled, pulling out a clinking set of keys and unlocked her door. This time, she let me enter first, while she followed. 

The lights snapped on, and I squinted, trying to adjust to the harsh light. Fortunately, my body was calming down, and I didn't have to clench my muscles so tightly. Yet, I was still afraid of collapsing on the floor and going into a seizure. 

Carly pulled off her coat and threw it over a forest green colored chair that occupied the small living area. A kitchen directly connected with the living room and then there was a small hallway where I assumed the bedroom and bathroom were. "You can stay here, if you want," she told me. 

"Thanks," I muttered, looking around, refusing to take off my own coat. It was then, perched in a tiny corner of Carly's apartment that I saw her. 

She stared at me through never-blinking eyes, perched above her always smiling lips. With outstretched hands, she reached for me, beckoning to come to her. Slowly, I did. I walked like a lost soul to her, mentally pleading with her to take me away from all the pain. 

"Zack?" Carly whispered quietly from behind me as she watched me approach her. 

Her heart was blood red with the ever-burning flames gathered around it, yet she still managed to keep all her regal beauty. 

I was shocked beyond all belief and fell to my knees, letting my head land against the plaster wall as my hands flew to my face to cover my emotions. Oh god, it was her. She hadn't left us after all. She would help us, she would in our moment of trouble. 

The Blue Lady had returned. 


	19. Praying to Her

One

I had never thought of her since the escape; I never remembered her since my life at Manticore. She was just another part of Manticore that swam in my repressed memories. 

Yet, now as she stood above me, although a tiny figure on a shelf, the memories came screaming back, breaking the dam that held them at bay. 

I remembered the first time she entered my life. It was when the janitor gave the tiny prayer card to us, telling us that she would protect us. She was beautiful to me, since the only women I saw at Manticore were either hard-nosed drill sergeants or ones behind medical masks. From that time on, we believed that she was our protector from the nomlies, our goddess, our savior. 

Eventually, the enthusiasm wore off as most of us realized that she wasn't coming to help us. We were basically stuck there in the day to day itinerary of march and kill. But, Ben couldn't forget her. He was more than attracted to her-he worshiped her. And I never could fully understand why. 

The last time I saw the Blue Lady was right before the escape. I had organized my troops in our sleeping quarters as we huddled together, sorting out plans. Ben was off by himself, staring out the large windows. I approached him to make sure he was coming; I wouldn't be responsible for any soldiers left behind. 

"What are you doing?" I asked him. 

"Praying." 

"Praying?" Nobody at Manticore had ever taught us to pray. Soldiers, the strong ones, aren't supposed to pray. It was a sign of weakness, putting your life in someone else's hands. 

"Yes, to her," Ben replied, looking up at me. 

"What can she do?" 

"She'll help us." 

"She's never helped us before," I spat angrily. I couldn't have him going into his meditations when I needed him to be most alert. 

"You've never tried-have you?" 

"Tried what?" 

"Praying to her." 

"Don't be a fool." 

"You should try, Zack, you should. It can't hurt-can it?" 

Reluctantly, I sat down beside him on the hard cot as we looked out over the snow-covered lawn. The snow was going to be cold, I realized. But coldness could not affect us; we would be unstoppable. 

"Zack?" 

"What?" 

"See?" Ben asked, pointing to the back of the prayer card. "You read this to yourself and ask for her help." He handed me the prayer card, and I read it. "Now ask for her help." 

"But-" I began. 

"Just do it," he told me. Silently, I asked the Blue Lady for her help for the escape that night. 

Perhaps she really had helped us that night, I wasn't sure. But now, as knelt, nearly cowering beneath her, as Carly called my name, I felt the prayer return to me. Surprisingly, I hadn't forgotten it in eleven years. 

Would it help us now? Damn…where was Ben's encouragement when I needed it most? 


	20. That Lady...

One

"Zack, what's wrong?" Carly's voice was muffled and diluted as she called me from behind. I felt so utterly paralyzed as the memories from the past came flying back at me. For so long I had kept them away where they would never hurt me again. An occasional nip in the ass was all I usually got from them and then they were pushed right back away. 

But now, as the symbol of both life and death stood above me, I found myself starting to crumble. I had always been strong, but when I was a child, I, like other children, had that perfect innocence about them. Mine was always stored away where Lydecker couldn't reach it. With my memories returning, I was thinking with that same mind and seeing with those same eyes. 

I rose unsteadily to my feet and looked blankly at Carly, inhaling deeply. Her eyes were wide and frightened like most people would've been after watching a man collapse in their apartment. 

"What's wrong?" she asked me again. 

"That lady…" I began, but couldn't bring myself to finish. For, telling Carly anything would be the first step to admit I was who I was. 

"Mary?" 

"Mary?" I echoed. 

"You don't know who she is, but yet you fall on your knees before her?" 

"Yes." 

Carly walked closer to me and rested a hand on my shoulder. "Yes, that's Mary, the mother of Jesus." She smiled faintly. "My mom's pretty religious, and it's only fair that I should have at least one religious object in my house. Penance for not going to church." 

"Oh." 

She slowly let her hand trail down my back, feeling the soft leather of my coat. The next thing I knew, she had yanked her hand back and was nearly screaming. "Zack!" she cried, horrified. 

"What?!" I snapped, jerking around, fearing that Brin had been seen, (somehow, though, I don't think it would've been possible for Carly to see her before me). But, once I was facing Carly, I didn't seen Brin or Lydecker or anybody else-just Carly. 

She was standing in front of me, clutching her left hand as blood ran over it. My blood. "You're hurt!" she gasped, and, ignoring her bloody hand, began to yank off my coat. 

"I'm fine!" I bit right back and pulled myself away from her. She wasn't my doctor and didn't need to go examining me like one. 

"Stop being such a jerk about it. You're hurt and you damn well know it. Just take your dumb coat off so I can see it." 

"Why should I?" I retorted. Carly walked up to me, glaring angrily without saying anything. Not taking her eyes off of mine, she reached for my coat. Immediately, I slapped her hand away. She wasn't discouraged, for again she tried. Now I was pissed. You don't cross me twice. Grabbing her by the wrists, I hissed, "Stop it." 

"You know what, Zack? You think you're this immortal god and you're not. You're a normal human." 

I laughed hoarsely and let her go, walking away. "If only you knew." 


	21. Doctor Zack

One

"What did you say?" Carly asked me. 

"Why does it matter?" 

"Let me help you." 

"I'd rather not," I spat. 

"Fine!" she suddenly exploded. "Die on me! See if I care that you get tetanus! You big asshole!" She stormed out the door without even bothering to grab her coat. The door slammed shut, and I was left alone in the empty apartment, stunned more than I thought I'd be. 

She had told me off. Someone had actually told me off. It was truly a shocking thing. Yes, the rest of my friends had criticized me before, but had never dared to step over that line I always had placed around me. Carly had not only stepped over the line, but she had spit in my face too. 

Yet, the girl was right. Who knew what kind of diseases were on that piece of glass? I may have been nearly unstoppable when it came to wounds, but I surely wasn't immortal. 

I walked down the tiled hallway and entered what appeared to be a bathroom. There was a tiny shower shoved into a corner, along with a small sink below a mirror and a toilet. Closing the door behind me, I made sure that it was locked-just in case Carly decided to come back. Sighing, I prepared to turn into "Doctor Zack". Not something I enjoyed doing, but there was no one else that could help me. Oh yeah, Lydecker. But he'd just as soon cut off my head and serve it on a platter as well. 

Slowly, I shrugged out of coat and set it down on the closed seat of the toilet. Then I removed the shirt, which immediately caused tiny needles to jump up and down my back. Shit, shit, shit, what the hell was wrong now? 

The shirt was nearly soaked with blood. When I dropped it in the sink, it made a sickening splat due to the heavy amount of blood that had been spilled on it. Great. Looks like I needed to get myself another shirt. 

Twisting myself around, I examined the puncture wound by using the mirror as a guide. For an average human, it probably would've required at least three to six stitches. But me? Hell, just clean it up with a washcloth and everything's ready. 

And that's exactly what I did. 

Using a washcloth I found hanging in the shower, I blotted at the wound to remove the dried blood. Then, I looked at it again, cleaned it off some more, and decided that that would do. 

That's when I realized I hadn't had a shower in a couple days…make it weeks. And, with a shower sitting right beside, what better opportunity than now? Carly surely was a little bit more than angry with me and therefore most likely wasn't coming back anytime soon. Perfect. 

I stripped out of my ragged clothing and laid it on top of my coat. Stepping into the warm rain of shower water, I sighed, almost content with myself. 

I had just gotten comfortable with the pounding water when I heard a knock at the door. Instantly I froze, and turned the water off. "Zack?" Carly was calling. "Zack? What are you doing?" 


	22. Into a Frenzy

One

"Nothing!" I yelled back, nearly jumping out of the shower. "I'm fine!" 

"I didn't ask if you were fine," she retorted. "Look, I got some gauze for your cut. Do you want it or not?" 

"No," I answered as I hopped on one leg, furiously trying to pull my pants back on. Unfortunately, having not dried off, the pants naturally resisted being put on and stuck to my skin. I cursed, silently, or so I believed until Carly asked what was going on in the bathroom. "Just…uh…nothing," I mumbled. If I told her I was getting dressed, who knew what kind of mental picture the girl would conjure up. I didn't want her thinking about me naked. Ok, I didn't want anybody thinking about me like that. 

"You should have that cut checked out. Look, I'll come and help you. I promise it won't hurt," she began as the doorknob twisted. Then I heard her sigh, exasperated with me. "Did you lock the door?" 

"Perhaps," I replied, buttoning my pants and reaching for my shoes at the same time. In my slippery hands, one of the shoes clattered to the ground, alerting the ever-listening Carly. She must've assumed that I had hurt myself. I nearly laughed out loud. Me? Hurt? Give me a break. Like those words would ever go together in a sentence…like I would ever admit to pain. Hell, I've had a laser shot through my eye, and I've survived. Tripping in a bathroom isn't even a scratch comparative to that. 

"If you don't get out here, I'm going to get a key-" 

"No!" I snapped, my shoes now tied and deciding what to do about a shirt. Putting my other one back on surely wouldn't be a good idea, considering the fact it was thoroughly soaked. Although I'm not a squeamish person by nature, the idea of "wearing" my blood wasn't exactly the most appealing fashion trend at the moment. 

But, on the other hand, I couldn't walk out with nothing but pants and shoes on either. Like I stated earlier, I didn't want Carly thinking of me in that way. And, even though I wouldn't be completely naked, just the sight of a male chest would send most females into a frenzy. I'm sure Carly wasn't much different. 

Then, stupidly, I remembered my coat. In my mad scramble to get dressed, I had forgotten about it. Dumb, dumb, dumb, I told myself and pulled it on, zipping it up as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, wearing a leather coat when you have just gotten out of a shower will make you very warm, very fast. 

Just as I was reaching for my shirt in the tiny sink, the door swung open. Startled, and mostly knocked over by the opening of the door, (due to the small size of the room), I tumbled backwards, sprawling into the shower. 

I managed to catch myself before falling on my ass in the puddle of water that still seeped around the bottom of the shower. Yet, with my hands slipping up and down the wall, I couldn't stay in that position very long. My leg muscles screaming as they tried to push me back up, I fell right onto my butt, water soaking into my pants. I cursed louder than necessary, and at that moment, Carly appeared in my view. 

"Zack," she stated, hiding her emotions. And, even though I was close to blinding rage, I was unable to read her emotions. Perhaps she had forgiven me, or perhaps she was ready to kill me. I wasn't sure which. Yet, there was enough ice in her voice, to make me favor the latter choice as she said, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" 


	23. All in Cynicism

One

I jumped to my feet, not caring that the seat of my pants was drenched, ready to hurl any and all insults imaginable at her. What the hell was _I_ doing? she had asked. What the hell was _she_ doing? 

Carly, surprisingly, did not back away when I sprang to my feet, putting only a couple inches between us. She glared evenly at me; her sharp green eyes fixated on me, prepared to shoot daggers through my chest if necessary. To say the least, she was pissed. 

But, then, so was I. Things could become ugly. Things could become bloody. And I wasn't afraid one bit of either situation. 

"Well, well, well," she said with poisonous sarcasm. "Looks like Zack's not so strong after all." She smirked, then turned and left the bathroom, heading out into the living room. Stupidly, I followed after her, ready for a confrontation. 

"What is that supposed to mean?" 

"Figure it out…'wonder boy'," she answered, sprawling herself out on the cushioned chair, as she ran her tongue over the tips of her teeth. 

In a flash, I was standing over her, my arms fastened into two iron bars on the edge of her chair. I glared at her. "You bitch," I hissed through clenched teeth. 

"Takes two for an argument," she replied, letting her eerily placid eyes meet mine…unlike every other person I've ever met. 

Since I had escaped from Manticore, I had met many new people, not to mention regrouping with my "siblings". But none of them had ever dared to challenge me when I was angry. Sure, Maxie had thrown some rather harsh comments in my face, but it was nothing like what Carly had said to me. 

"Why do you even give a damn about what happens to me?" I asked her. 

Pushing me aside, she walked into the kitchen. 

"Because I care about you." 

"What?" I snapped. 

"I care about you, Zack-ok? And is it really all that wrong to let someone know you care?" 

I nearly burst into psychotically, hysterical laughs at that point, as I thought of Lydecker. Though of all the times he had told us that everything he did for us was out of care. Care for our future. Care for the world. Care for our lives. Care for us. But, that, of course, was all a bunch of bullshit that ended the night of the escape. 

"Depends on the person," I wryly responded. 

She laughed faintly, brushing her hair out of her eyes as she stared at the counter top, letting her fingers hook sharply over the edge. And, even though she laughed, we both knew it was all in cynicism. "And what does that mean to you?" 

"I'm not the caring type of guy-ok? So, if you want me to beg for your forgiveness, screw it, 'cause it's not happening." 

"Like I didn't see _that_ coming," she muttered. 

I was beside her, glaring fiercely, before she had really realized that I had moved. Grabbing her by the shirt collar, I hissed, "You wanna settle this? Then let's settle it." 

Carly was not an X-5 female. Not Max who, by this point, would've attempted to punch my lights out and then flip me to the ground. Not Tinga who could use some pretty harsh words when it came to her family, and I got in the way. Not Syl, who even though she would never sass me to my face, always showed it in her body language. No, Carly was just a regular female. And like most females in the modern day world reacted sharply to being attacked; she slapped me across the face. 

I screamed a certain four-letter word that I saved for serious situations as she backed away while the warm flush spread over my cheek and a low, animalistic growl formed in my throat. The girl was going to die. 


	24. There Stood Kyle

One

I approached like I would an enemy-by being cunning and deceitful. My hair had fallen in my eyes, but I didn't bother to wipe it away. That wasn't important. 

What was important was getting to Carly. She, seeing my sudden rage, had dashed around to the other side of the counter, forcing us into a circular trap. I had always hated these back in Manticore. It seemed like no matter how hard you would try, you could never escape the person trying to trap you. An endless pattern of capturing the enemy. Kind of like my life. 

Suddenly, she hurried away from the counter and bounded for the door. I, naturally being quicker than she, flung myself at her. It was a stupid move, really it was, but it was all I had at the moment. All that I could think of to stop her from escaping. 

I landed on her legs, obviously forcing both of us to the carpeting below. She screamed, which caused me to just hang on tighter, not willing to let her go. 

What she had done to me was close to unforgivable. You just don't decide to slap me across the face just because you feel like it. That's not the way the world works-you "just don't". There is a reason for everything. For example, my reason for threatening her was that she had insulted me. Simple enough. 

Carly twisted around, kicking her legs, which ending up pounding against my stomach. I tried to ignore the slight pain, but still, it was pain, and pain is hard to ignore. As I began to pull her closer, my back immediately began to burn, affected by the movement of my muscles. The stomach pain was easy enough to ignore, but the back pain wasn't. 

I groaned, squinting my eyes and backed off of her for a moment as I tried to regain control of my body. Unfortunately, in that simple moment, she was able to slip out from underneath me and run to the door. 

But, just as she had reached the door and was ready to run out, there was a knock. She froze, her hand poised right over the knob. From my position on the floor, I looked up, straining to see past the hair in my eyes. 

Almost looking for safety, despite the fact I had come close to killing her, Carly glanced at me, then back to the door. I rose slowly and stiffly to my feet, crossing my arms loosely around my leather coat. 

She opened the door hesitantly and there stood Kyle, the man who had been at the bar for the past two nights. The odor of smoke and alcohol poured off of him, but he didn't look either stoned or drunk. His short blond hair was slightly messed up as if he had had some kind of fight, and his shirt was wrinkled as well. But other than that, he looked perfectly sane. Yet, I still had to wonder what he was doing at Carly's apartment, of all places. 

Carly still stood slightly behind the door, clutching the edge of it tightly, afraid almost. Even afraid though, she had enough manners to motion Kyle in and close the door behind him. He stared at Carly then at me, then back to Carly. 

"This your place?" he asked her. 

"Yes," she replied hesitantly. 

He nodded faintly, accepting her answer before turning to me. I still stood in the same spot, my feet rooted into the ground. I looked placidly at him, refusing to admit that I knew anything. 

"And you," he said to me, with a slight upwards nod, acknowledging me. Then, he shook his head, sadly almost. "It's been a long time-hasn't it?" 

"Since what?" I snapped, letting my usual coldness take over. 

"A long time to meet again, X5-599." 


	25. Lydecker Would be Pleased

One

Kyle was plastered against the wall in a flash. Holding him up by his throat, his feet were no longer touching the ground. Yet, he still stared at me, proud and contemptuous. 

Carly screamed, horrified with the spectacle of me nearly killing a man who had just arrived in her apartment. Fortunately, she had enough brains not to run out of the room and inform the whole city that there were two psychos in her apartment. She simply scurried over to a nearby chair and huddled by it, as if praying for some god to save her. 

"Who are you?" I hissed through clenched teeth as I lifted Kyle higher, feeling his arteries throb against my ever squeezing hand. 

Not being able to say anything, Kyle shook his head slowly, for he was losing air quickly and unconsciousness wasn't far away. But, surprisingly, he didn't try to push me like a normal human. He didn't try to bargain for his life by fighting me. It was like he knew it was worthless to go against me. 

As Kyle's face began to turn blue, Carly shrieked from behind me. "Zack! Let him go!" He was weakened enough that he couldn't hurt me, so I let him drop to the ground. The man gagged and coughed, spewing up green phlegm on the copper carpet. Obviously, even though he hadn't shown it, he had been seriously scared. You don't regurgitate because you felt like it. 

Slowly he rose to his feet, steadying himself by hanging onto the wall for support. His once purple face was regaining its normal pink color. I thought he was weakened and insane from the lack of oxygen, but his devious smile showed me otherwise. 

"You fight better than I thought. Lydecker would be pleased-" 

"Shut up!" I screamed at him. I should've killed him when I had the chance. But some part of me realized that I needed to know who this mystery man was. 

Carly had moved closer to me and was looking up at me, her eyes wide and scared. She saw me more of a protector than a threat to her since I had came thisclose to killing Kyle. 

"He would be very happy to see the life you live outside of Manticore-" 

"I said shut up!" 

"Zack, what is he talking about?" Carly asked me, her voice meek and mild. I glanced at her. 

"Ignore him, he's nobody," I said to her. Then, turning to Kyle, "I don't know who the hell you are, but get out of here, right now," I ordered him. 

"Zack? Oh…Zack," Kyle said, as if he had uncovered a great secret. He nodded, accepting the truth. "I thought it was you, but I couldn't be sure." 

I began to walk towards him, my finger pointed accusingly. "Get out of here." 

"You're still a soldier. And soldiers don't give orders-do they?" 

In one fluid motion, I punched him so hard in the face that he fell to the ground, blood spurting from his possibly broken nose. It ran down his plain shirt, snaking out over the fabric. Kyle shook his head, sadly this time as he looked down at the blood pooling in his hand. 

"Lydecker would be pleased," he whispered. 


	26. Eleven Years Ago

One

There was nothing I could say to calm my splitting nerves-words couldn't help me now. The only thing I could do was instinctively and absentmindedly reach up every once in awhile to touch the back of my neck where the barcode had been. This motion not only produced a rather sinister look from Kyle, but succeeding in making me feel weaker than I had in a long time. 

Kyle now sat across from Carly and I, a washcloth wrapped around his bloody nose. He was in the forest green chair that I had trapped Carly in only minutes before. Her coat still hung, wrinkled now, over the back. 

Carly and I were seated on her loveseat opposite of Kyle, so that we directly faced him. She, feeling that I was safe with her, let her hand rest on my knee. For once I didn't brush it away; I needed human support. It was another weakness I hated to admit-needing somebody. 

She refused to look at Kyle, unlike I did, for something on the carpeting proved to be far more interesting than looking at him. I, though, glared at Kyle, not looking away under his defiant smirk. 

"Where should I begin, Zack? Can I call you 'Zack'? I'm sure the identity of X5-599 wore off eleven years ago," Kyle said to me. I bit down hard enough on my jaw to make my teeth ache from the pressure. Saying nothing, I simply continued to glare at him. "Well," Kyle began again with a heavy sigh and removed the washcloth around his nose. He paused, dabbing at his nose to check for fresh blood, but found none. Slowly, he rose to his feet, saying that he would clean the washcloth. 

"_I'll_ get it," Carly told him, rising to her feet. Without looking at him, she gingerly took the bloody washcloth and began to rinse it off in the sink. Rinse it for longer than it needed to be. 

"I've surprised we've met up again," Kyle told me as he flexed his fingers and leaned back in chair. He acted like this was some sort of happy family occasion, the antithesis of what it really was. "I was pretty sure you didn't make it out during the escape. Either that or got yourself killed out in this place," he said, motioning his hand around, referring to the world in general. "You always were too headstrong, but it's good to see you nonetheless." 

"You act like this is some kind of goddamn reunion!" I snapped, ready to kill him at any moment. Curiosity on my part was the only thing keeping him alive. "I don't even know who the hell you are. 'Kyle'." I snorted. "How does that tie you in with Manticore? With me? With everything?" 

"I worked in the DNA lab." 

"Oh really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in mock interest. "So did a lot of other filthy bastards."

"Lydecker and I were very close." 

"Congratulations." 

"You don't get it, do you?" he sneered. "You just don't understand what this is all about." 

"Then what is it all about?" Carly, by this time, had regained her seat beside me, still objecting to look at Kyle. Not that I blamed her any, of course, it wasn't her battle. 

"I left Manticore shortly after the escape. Place was goin' down…doesn't matter that it was able to rebuild itself now…no concern of mine, though. 

"Anyhow, I moved away. To here, Canada, and built a life for myself, forgetting Manticore completely. 

"Then Brin…isn't that it?…shows up at the bar. Well," he laughed slightly, "seeing you guys fight brought it all back. And it's not like I, who worked with you kids, can ignore something like that." And with a nod at Carly, he said, "So, I get her name and address, knowing that you don't have a home, and follow you both here-" 

"And so you're just another one of Lydecker's henchmen?" I interrupted. 

Kyle laughed hoarsely, sitting up a little bit straighter. "Not quite…" 

"Then what are you?" 

"Consider me a Y chromosome donor-" 

"Cut the b.s. and get to the point." 

"_Your_ Y chromosome donor…Your father, Zack." 


	27. Father and Son

One

I sat stunned for a moment, trying to absorb what he was saying. Then, I rose to my feet, and pointed my finger accusingly at him. "You liar!" I hissed, spit flying from my lips. 

Kyle seemed unaffected by my outburst. "You think I would lie to you?" 

"Is that a rhetorical question? You're not my father! You filth!" 

"330417291559, is that enough proof for you?" 

I felt all the blood drain out of my once burning face. He knew my barcode. Despite the fact I didn't have it anymore, he knew it nonetheless. It was the very thing that could control me beyond the clutches of Manticore, for it would always be there. Always part of the stinging memories. Trying to regain my control of the situation, I countered, "So? Lydecker knows our barcodes, and he's not our father. You're still a liar." 

Kyle rose to his feet, but wasn't any taller than I. In fact, he was slightly shorter, but he didn't seem to notice or care. Of course, I noticed because this height difference gave me an advantage over him. "What about the physical resemblance?" Kyle hissed, his face pressed close against mine. "Your girlfriend even mentioned them back in the bar. You know it's true. Quit denying yourself the truth. It's not very honorable like a soldier should be." 

"Where's Lydecker?" I asked quietly, knowing what I had to do. 

Kyle laughed. "Like I really would tell you. All that matters is that you're coming back to Manticore." 

"No!" I screamed, my loud voice cutting through the stark silence. "I would rather die than go back-" 

"Would you like to meet your mom?" he asked me. 

"What? No, I don't, because you don't know her! You're a filthy lying-" 

"You think if you just push all the truth away it's suddenly going to disappear? I'm not going anywhere, Zack. Just like Manticore will never leave you. You can erase the barcode, but you can't erase genetics-can you?" He smiled, and, for a split second, I thought he was going to reconsider his option in taking me back. He actually seemed like he genuinely cared about me. Reaching up as if to touch my hair, he said, "They did a good job on you…_I_ did a good job on you." 

I slapped his hand away with more force than necessary. "No, I created myself, you only tried to destroy the person I was." 

Kyle sighed, almost sadly. "That's where you're wrong." He paused and I saw, with my precise vision, that he was slipping a gun out of his denim jacket. I would've moved to attack, but the next thing I knew, there was a gun pointed directly at my face. 

"You won't kill me," I told him. 

"Of course not, you're far too valuable for that." That's when I noticed that he wasn't holding a regular gun, but a tranquilizing one. It was a much cruder model than Manticore's, but it would do the job for him nonetheless. "It's been nice, Zack." He smiled cruelly. "I'm just sorry for all those missed Father's Days." 

"Consider it a present," I sneered. Without warning, I kicked one leg out, knocking the gun away. It fell to the carpeting below and Carly scrambled to get it. Kyle began to rush away, but I grabbed him by the back of the neck, and we met eyes. Father and son. 

"Good bye, _Dad_." 

"You won't kill me," he said, echoing my statement only seconds before. It was over before he knew what had happened. His head rolled loosely on his shoulders, neck broken, and the body fell to the ground below, his eyes rolled upward in their sockets. 

I turned away, not sure whether to cry or to laugh. He had been my dad my entire life, even though I had never known it. And now I knew. It was something that not very many of us were able to find out-our parents. What I had done to him had been cruel, I would admit that, but it was necessary. Despite our ties together, he would've taken me back to the place that haunted my nightmares and always would. 

Carly approached me, laying a comforting hand on my shoulder. I felt the tears forming in my eyes. Damn emotions. "You know," I whispered to her, staring at the body of Kyle and not looking at her. 

"I know enough." She watched me closely, struggling to contain my sadness. "He was father. You have a right to cry," she told me sympathetically. 

As much as I may have wanted to cry, I couldn't, not in front of her, of course. I swallowed the hard lump in my throat and turned away from Kyle. "He was a man that shared some DNA with me…nothing more."


	28. How Ironic

One

Neither of us said anything for the longest time. I could've broken down into fretful sobs that would have racked my whole body until I went into a seizure, or I certainly could've thrown the body out the window, ridding any trace that a man by the name of Kyle had even existed.

It was funny, really it was. I didn't even know his last name, and he was dead. I knew what I had done was wrong, for killing unto itself was wrong. I'd be the first of the X-5s to burn in hell for my killings. Anyhow, despite the fact that murdering him was wrong, it had been necessary. Just like all the other killings had been necessary. 

I wasn't Ben; I didn't kill for fun. Every murder that I committed had a reason: either the people were after my family, the remaining X-5s, or me. 

Yet, every time I would kill, I'd close off a part of myself, attempting to disconnect from the reality. I pretended I was back at Manticore, with Lydecker standing over us, urging us on. So, with his vapid face burning into my mind, I could commit the killing without a second thought. It was business, just as it always had been.

But now, as I gazed at the body of Kyle, something inside of me was moved to compassion. He had been my father. The only one I had ever had. 

I won't deny that I had wondered who my parents were. It was a natural childlike thing to do. When I grew older, I was able to forget that such people existed. They were just part of the biting memories that deserved to be repressed.

Now, I knew who my dad had been. And, even though I didn't know the name of my mom, I knew that she was real, and out there somewhere. 

I turned back to Carly, trying to swallow my emotions. "I have to leave now," I told her.

"I'm coming with you."

"No, you can't."

"What am I supposed to do? I can't just wait here until they come after me. What if they decide to kill me as well?" she asked, her voice pinched with fear.

I sighed reluctantly. I really didn't want her coming along, but on the other hand, she made a good point. Kyle had most likely tipped off Lydecker as to my whereabouts. Yet, I was surprised Lydecker wasn't here. I couldn't wait around and find out though. And, if Carly was killed, her blood would be on my head.

"Fine," I sighed. "But, hurry up." 

She rushed into her room and came back out with a black backpack. Quickly, she shoved some non-perishable food into the backpack, and then strode over to the loveseat. She squatted down in front of it and pulled out a black case and proceeded to open it. "My parents got this for me…since I'm living on my own now…they said I might need it some day." Rising to her feet, I saw that she held a sleek pistol. "And, I guess, today's that day."

With unexpected tenderness that one normally wouldn't give some a weapon, she laid the gun in her backpack on top of the food. Then, she walked over to the Blue Lady and gently laid the plaster statue next to the gun. How ironic. Love and war, next to each other.

"I don't know what power She holds for you," Carly told me, "but whatever it is, perhaps it'll help." 

She zipped up the backpack and then slung both straps over her shoulders. "Zack…about what Kyle said to you…"

"Yeah?" I asked, suddenly feeling slightly panicked, knowing that I could no longer deny anything.

"I don't know how much of it is true, and I don't understand everything, but it doesn't matter-"

"Everything matters," I bit back more sharply than I intended to.

"No," she cooed, caressing the side of my face with her soft hand, "the only thing that matters is that you're human, just like the rest of us. You're no different than I am, despite everything that Kyle said."

I nodded faintly, accepting her words, but not believing them. Slowly, I walked towards the door and opened it a crack. "Say good-bye to your apartment, 'cause I don't think we'll be coming back anytime soon," I told Carly.

She gazed almost longingly at it, as the realization of what she was doing set it. The apartment was picture perfect, just the way she had entered it. Of course, I was the one who came and adulterated everything. My bloody t-shirt was still in the sink, along with Kyle's body.

"Let's go," she said, her voice cracking although she was trying to be strong.

We left the apartment building and headed out into the night. As soon as we made it to the forest, we began to run. The demon war had officially started. And the score? 1-0.


	29. The Raven

One

Carly and I ran through the thick forest, our breathing and feet the only sounds in the pitch black night. I was fortunate to have my extraordinary vision, for without it we would've been lost.

The leaves slapped at my face, stinging it just enough to cause pain, while the pine needles wanted to dig into my flesh. It was as if the world knew what I had done and was now trying to punish me for it. The moon, only a simple sliver in the sky, gave very little light, but just enough to see shadows. A couple animals scurried past us, their high-pitched squeaking causing Carly to jump in fear of the nighttime monsters. I wanted to tell her that not all monsters live in the night. 

I kept on running, despite the pain of the wound in my back. It would heal soon enough though, and everything would be fine. My face was nearly numb from the slapping of the leaves, and I felt blood trickling down from my lip where nightly claws had scratched it. Nothing, though, could stop me from running.

Carly grasped my balmy hand in her own and struggled to keep up. It wasn't easy for her, but she wouldn't give up. I admired her for that. She had to be one of the bravest humans I had ever met. Not only had she not backed down against my fury, but dealt with the death of a man in her apartment and everything in between. Few people could handle all of that. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a cawing noise, like a bird. I froze, dead in my tracks. Stopping so abruptly caused Carly to run into me, since she was unable to see past the tips of her fingers. "Zack?" she whispered, her voice strangely alien to the night.

"Shh…" I told her as she squeezed my hand tighter. With my precise eyes, I saw the big black bird up in the tree, its black breast shiny in the pale moonlight. It seemed to glare down at me, reminding me of what it stood for. 

The raven.

Every time it had come into my life, someone had died. It was there in my Manticore training, and when it came, we accidentally shot one of our own. I shot that soldier. It was the first killing of my life. The first in a long line that still continued to this day. 

The bird had been there when I killed Volgesang. It had watched me with beady eyes as he had pleaded for his life, denying that he didn't know Max or Lydecker. His death was a hard one, for both of us. He had struggled to the very end-not something I enjoyed seeing with my victims. 

So, I grabbed Carly and pulled her closer. "Don't move," I told her in a hushed undertone. Her hand found its way to my back, and she held on for dear life. I couldn't lose her. Surprisingly, she had become one of the few people I cared about-outside of the other X-5s. 

That's when I heard the noise behind me. It was so utterly quiet, and I was sure that Carly hadn't heard it either. I zipped open her backpack and reached inside to pull out the gun. Either she didn't notice or didn't care, for she said nothing. I clicked the gun, unfortunately not as quiet as I would've liked, but I knew now that it was loaded with a clip ready and full. And I stood poised, the muscles in my body all clenched and ready to spring.

That's when I saw them. 

I saw his silver hair in the slight moonlight, then the brown leather jacket and knew who it was. Lydecker. He hadn't forgotten us after all. I saw him, but I wasn't sure if he knew that I could see him as equally as he could see me.

Then, from behind him, came the other men, all with guns, ready to kill Carly and take me back to Manticore. "Get down," I whispered to Carly. Slowly, she sank to the ground, not questioning my order. 

As soon as she was out of the way, I began to shoot the men. Each one fell with a horrendous scream, then laid still on the ground below, with their blood shiny in the pale moonlight. Lydecker, panicking as he saw his men go down, aimed at me with the only gun he had and fired.

I, unfortunately, was too busy trying to take care of the real soldiers and had foolishly ignored him in the process. That's why I didn't see the bullet aimed right at me. It ripped into the back of my knee, causing me to scream in pain just like the men I had killed. 

Turning, I aimed the gun randomly into the dark forest where the shot had come from and just shot. Shot at darkness, hoping to kill the bastard. But, my attempts failed, for he must've run off already. Either that or the pain was blinding me. 

Carly, who had heard my scream, was up, supporting me loosely. My body writhed in pain, while the blood fell down the back of my leg, soaking the jeans. "We have to get you to a hospital," she told me.

"No," I whispered through clenched teeth. "No, there's a place up a ways where we can stay."

She nodded reluctantly, and slowly, we moved through the night, leaving only my blood and bodies as a trace that we had been there at all.


	30. Tiny Lydeckers

One

We stumbled through the night, unable to see very well. Carly was blinded by being a normal human, and I, by the excruciating pain shooting through my leg. I could barely walk from the agony. Every time I walked, I felt the bullet gouging deeper into my flesh. Hopefully, it hadn't torn my tendon or ripped up the muscle too badly. Yet, I was still walking, so something had to be working.

"Zack?" Carly whispered to me. "Where are we going?"

I winced, nearly falling to the ground, but managing to catch myself on a tree trunk. I could see the pity in Carly's eyes as she looked at me, but we both knew there was nothing she could do for me. The blood was sticky on the back of my pants, and was constantly being made thicker by the freshly sprouting gore. The morning insects, gnats and black flies, were settling onto the matted blood, going into a feeding frenzy over it. I tried to swat them away, but they would not leave. Tiny Lydeckers.

"There's a place…up ahead…I think…that we should be able to stay at," I told her in between hissing breaths. Oh God, it hurt. Burned through every part of my body it did. I began to wonder if Lydecker knew what I had done to Kyle, and therefore purposefully used a more painful kind of shell. No, he doesn't know…how could he? 

But, even I, shouldn't question Lydecker.

He's not a stupid man, nowhere near that. On the other hand, he's remarkably intelligent. After all, without him, I wouldn't be where I was today, (even if that included running for my life close to every second of every day). He's a determined s.o.b, with serious alcohol problems, not to mention the overwhelming mental issues-i.e. torturing children, (should be put in prison for that). Had he not abused me when I was little, I may have actually been able to tolerate him now. But, on the same point, I wouldn't have known him because I wouldn't have been part of his wacko experiments. So, anyway you look at it, I was pretty much destined to hate him. 

"How much farther is it?" Carly asked. 

"I don't know…hundred…two hundred yards." 

She nodded, causing her golden hair to jingle in the auburn light of the morning. Far in the distance, I could see the sun slowly rising, starting to spread its rays over the earth. 

Finally. Morning was coming. Night seemed to have gone on forever. But, then, considering the events that had occurred…well, I guess it had a reason to.

The sun caught Carly's blond hair and shimmered upon it, revealing the matted blood and the scratch on the side of her pale cheek. I was surprised she hadn't said anything about it earlier. She definitely was stronger than I thought. 

With the light illuminating the forest, I could see where I was more clearly. Perhaps now, we could pick up the pace and get going. 

"Let's go," I told her and pushed myself away from the tree. My entire body lurched before I could straighten myself out and finish walking. 

"Do you need some help?"

"No, I'm fine…" 

Carly watched me with compassion, wanting to help, but not knowing how without setting me off. She had seen me angry before, and most likely, didn't want to see it again.

I stumbled out in front of her, taking lead. She followed behind, ready to catch me if I fell. With my fierce determination, we made it all the way to my destination without having to stop. Yet, by the time we got there, I seriously thought my leg was going to fall off.

A tiny cabin sat before us, and I knew that this was it. This was right. Carly grabbed me by the arm as I hurried up to it, and I didn't push her away. 

Nearly slamming into the door because I could no longer support myself, I knocked weakly on it, feeling the bullet under my kneecap. Once I knocked, I righted myself and leaned on the doorframe, struggling to breathe in between my clenched teeth.

There was a long pause as Carly and I waited for a response. One second, two seconds, three…

Finally, the door opened, and a man walked out. He looked at Carly, confused. Then, he saw me, and rushed to me before I fell over from pain and exhaustion. 

"Zack!" he cried and grabbed me under the arms. "What in the world have you been doing?"

I smiled weakly, trying to show that I was still strong. "The usual, just the usual, Zane."


	31. Determined to the Core

One

Zane shook his head, rolling his eyes at my stupidity. But, he let me come inside anyhow. Well, technically, he dragged me inside and put me in a chair…but you get the point anyhow. 

Carly followed both of us inside, hesitating tentatively before coming in. She was probably more scared than she'd been in a long time. Men getting killed, bullets, blood, and now a stranger in the woods. Where would it end? she had to be wondering. 

Zane, after sitting me down, turned to her and smiled. "Would you like a place to rest? You look exhausted."

Carly nodded mutely, but not before glancing over to me for affirmation. I was safety for her, and she was going to trust my judgement. After, I had returned the nod, showing her that Zane was ok, she followed him into a back room.

I waited while he talked to her about how there were extra blankets under the bed if she needed any. Then, he came out, closing the bedroom door behind him. 

By this time, I was clutching the back of my leg, trying to examine it. It wasn't as easy as I would've hoped, and I couldn't see the wound clearly.

"Shot up pretty bad?" Zane asked me, sitting down across from me. 

"It's not bad."

He laughed slightly. "Zack, if you got your leg blown off by a mine, you still say that it wasn't bad." 

"I probably wouldn't be able to talk."

"Good point," Zane agreed and rose to his feet. He left the living area and went into the kitchen off the far right. I heard him rustling around in there before he came back with a pair of long tweezers, gauze, and a bottle. 

Zane wore his dark, pure black hair freely, down to his shoulders. Usually it was hanging down naturally. But this time, he had put it back into cornrows, still covering up his barcode. He had brown eyes that were so dark, you would've believed them to be as black as his hair. His skin was a tan color, like coffee. His parents, we assumed, had to be Native Americans. And with his personality, it wasn't all that unlikely.

He was a peaceful guy most of the time. But when he got mad, he was mad. Seriously, I wouldn't be surprised if World War IV would start over his anger. It was possible. I had only seen him enraged twice since I had known him. And it wasn't pretty.

Other than the rages he would go into, he was calm and relaxed. He would tell you the truth, whether you wanted to hear it or not. That was usually why I didn't visit him that much-he told me things about myself and my life that I didn't want to hear from him. So, I'd fly into one of my raging fits, and he'd just sit and stare at me blankly until I left. 

He was determined to the core, never stopping or hesitating for anything. If I had never been captain or had gotten either hurt or killed, Zane would've become CO. Knowing this sometimes made me wonder if Lydecker would've rather had Zane instead of me. Perhaps the escape from Manticore never would've taken place. But, it was all in the past anyhow. 

Different from all of the other X5s, he could accept who he was without hatred or question. To him, being human and alive was good enough for him. The rest of us hated what Manticore had done to us, how it had screwed us up so badly. But, Zane just would shrug it off and try to reason with us that, "it was all good". 

"Since the girl's got the bed, you're going to have to lay on the floor," Zane told me, setting the items he had gathered down on a weak looking table.

"_What?"_

"I need to see the back of you leg, because you obviously can't take care of it yourself."

"I'm fine," I bit.

"We've been through this already. I can take care of your leg. Otherwise, infection is going to set it, and it's never going to heal. You want to be a gimp for the rest of your life?"

Zane's point was a good one, and I reluctantly stood up. Besides, he probably would've pushed me to the floor anyhow. Being injured, he was stronger than I was.

"You're going to have to remove your pants," Zane said with a doctor's authority.

"Since when?"

"Since I'm going to have to look at your leg to see the damage. And, with the denim in the way, it's going to be awfully hard."

"Cut it," I snapped. 

"Whatever," Zane groaned and walked back out to the kitchen. He returned with a pair of scissors. "What? Do you think I'm gay or something?" he asked frankly

"No, it's just that…well…why should I have to take my freaking pants off?"

"You're an idiot sometimes, really you are."

"And I've survived."

He laughed as he began to cut around the bullet hole. Eventually, he got enough of the material removed that he could clearly see the wound. That's when I lay down on the floor and let him go to work. He wasn't a doctor, but he was the only X5 would had ever gone to school after the escape. 

"Who's the girl?" Zane asked me, trying to distract me and keep my mind off of what he was doing.

"Carly."

"Girlfriend?"

"No…shit…" I groaned as I felt the tweezers go in. 

"Sorry, I can see the bullet, though, so I got to get it out."

"God…can't you…ouch!…be any gentler?"

"Why would I want to do that? After all, I thought your leg was fine," he told me, but not without some sarcasm. "Here, the bullet's out. You want to see it?"

"No thanks," I muttered. 

"So, why's Carly with you? I thought you went for the loner appeal."

"She kinda figured out who I was."

"Really? How so?" he asked as he wiped away at the wound with the gauze.

"My dad showed up."

"_What?"_

"You heard me."

"Not Lydecker, I hope."

"No, just some guy from the DNA lab. He pretty much blew everything with Carly right there. He was going to take me back to Manticore so…" I didn't finish. Zane understood the rest.

I saw his head bob in the shadows as the sunlight streamed in. "And you believed him?"

"Why shouldn't I have? Zane, you should've seen the guy! He was like an older version of me!" 

"Interesting." He rose to his feet, wiping his hands on his pants. "You're set," he told me.

I rose unsteadily, but managed to stand without the intense pain. "Thanks," I mumbled.

"No problem. Here, I'll get you some clothes to change into. You can stay here until you feel better." 


	32. Extension to the Soul

One

I waited out in the living room until Zane came back with a pair of jeans and a regular T-shirt. "Here, they might be a little bit small, but not much. And," he told me, handing me the clothes, "I'm guessing you want to keep the leather jacket."

"What would make you think that?"

He laughed slightly, not answering my question, but he told me that there was a bathroom I could get changed in. 

I strode over to the bathroom, but not before locking the door behind me. As Zane had said, the clothes were a little small, but I managed to pull them on. Besides, it was better than wearing old rags. I rolled the old blue jeans up and tossed them in the trash basket sitting by the toilet. A pity. I had spent some time working to get those dandelion leaves to look like pot. Finally, I slipped on my leather jacket and walked back out.

Zane had made some kind of hot drink and offered it to me before I sat down. "What is it?" I asked, sniffing at it carefully.

"Just tea, nothing poisonous."

"Thank God," I laughed and sat down, across from him.

Through the streaked windows, the sunlight was beginning to come in. It illuminated the room, yet created enough harsh shadows for monsters to lurk in. The house was plain enough, but it was obvious that it served Zane's needs. He was a lot better off than I was.

"So, how'd you get this house?" I asked him.

"Moved it and claimed it," he replied. "Simple as that. It used to be one of those vacation spots people had before the pulse. Now, it's just an abandoned shack."

"It's not bad."

"No, I had to find someplace to relocate after 'Deck found our locations."

"Sorry."

"No big deal. Didn't hurt me all that much. I'm just sorry I had to leave my dog behind."

"You left it behind?" I asked in disbelief. Zane's dog was no different than Max's motorcycle or Ben's Blue Lady. Extension to the soul. 

"I had to. I mean, Zack, if I had brought it, 'Deck could've traced me more easily. Besides, it's still there, waiting patiently for me."

"When do you think you'll go back?"

"Back?" he echoed. "I don't know. I've lived here…for what?…A month or so. There's gonna be guards all around my place for probably at least half a year. Besides, LA's hectic enough as is without 'Deck and his men. "

"You can get past them if you wanted."

He shrugged. "I could, but what would be the point to that? More running. I'm fairly happy here. Alone, but happy."

"There's nobody else out here?" I asked. If this used to be a vacation cabin, I would've assumed that there were more around. And, having more around, meant more people. Zane could easily fit it with the regular human population. It had never been a problem for him. I mean, he had somehow gotten enough money to continue schooling. So, he went to school, fitting it with the rest of the people. Nobody ever suspected that he was a genetically engineered killing machine. 

"Well…" Zane paused and looked away.

"What?" 

"Ben."

"Ben? What's up with him?"

"You haven't heard, have you?"

"Zane, I've been away from everybody and everything for awhile now. You expect me to know what goes on with all the other X5s?" I bit harsher than intended.

"You usually do," he stated bluntly. "Anyhow, Ben, he was on these killing sprees of his-"

"I heard about that."

"He was Seattle and met up with Maxie. He was going to go kill somebody, but she got to him first."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I hissed, tired of his incessant babbling. 

"She killed Ben."


	33. A Right to be

One

"What?" I asked, supposing he was lying. But, this was Zane we were talking about, not anybody else with their tricks and flips. He hardly ever lied.

"You heard me, Zack."

"And how would you know?"

"Tinga. Apparently, she went back to see her kid for awhile. Then, it got to risky for her to stay there, and she had to retreat back up into Canada. She saw me one day and told me what had happened -"

"She went back?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes…Zack, she misses her family. She, unlike the rest of us, has one. So, yes, she's back with them right now probably."

"I can't believe…of all the _stupid_ things to do…" I growled under my breath.

"Forgetting Tinga for now," Zane continued, trying to calm me down, "Ben's dead. He's been city hopping, killing people left and right. 'Deck's been all over it. And, from what I heard from Tinga, his body was in the woods with its neck broken. Maxie's the only one in Seattle who has that kind of power."

My Maxie. She had to kill Ben. God, why couldn't I have stopped him when I had the chance? I knew he was a nomlie; I knew he had problems, so why didn't I stop him? 

Because I thought he was bluffing, I thought he was just being a cocky snot again. But, now, because of my ignoring him, he's dead, and Max is probably emotionally hurt beyond belief. 

Great. What a leader I am.

That's when I remembered how the Blue Lady had held so much power for Ben. Perhaps, he was already dead by the time I prayed to her, and that's why Kyle came, and why I got shot and why everything went downhill. Her most loyal follower was dead. 

"The Blue Lady…" I mumbled, running my fingers through my hair.

Zane eyed me suspiciously. "Yes, he was killing for her." He sighed heavily and leaned over, closer to me as he cupped the mug of cooling tea in between his hands that were still rather greased stained from mechanic's work. "Zack…there's nothing you could've done."

"Well, now Tinga's back, and she's going to get herself killed…the idiot."

"Zack…" he warned. 

"It's the truth. Those two aren't going to do anything but slow her down and mess with her judgment. If she's smart, she'd forget about them. Otherwise, they're going to wind up sharing a suite back at Manticore," I told him.

"She has a right to have a family."

"Yeah? Well, we don't have a right to be who we are." 

"There's nothing we can do about that."

"You don't think I know that?" I snapped. 

"You have to go back."

"Go back? Why should I?"

"Tinga's going to need some help. She and Maxie both. You know they can't take on 'Deck and his men at one, all while protecting the husband and kid."

"Never. She's the one who went back."

"And, you're just going to let her get shot? Let _Maxie_ get shot?" He laughed sarcastically. "That'd be a real guilt-trip for all of us."

"Then why don't you go? After all, _you_ seem to have this all under control."

"You're the only one who knows where they all live," Zane reasoned. "I don't."

I sighed heavily. "You're making this very difficult."

"Why else do you come to see me?" he asked with a wry smile. But, the smile faded as he continued, "You're going to have to take the girl…Carly…back."

"Back?" I echoed.

"To her home."

"Lydecker's probably all over it."

"No, he's not. If what you said is true about him attacking you in the forest, then most likely he doesn't know that you were staying in that apartment. He's probably been waiting in the woods, knowing that you're going to keep on the move." 

"Good point," I muttered, although I didn't like admitting it.

"She can't stay with you, Zack. If 'Deck's really after you, he'll kill her without a second thought. You're only putting her in danger." He shook his head slowly, letting the ends of his cornrows sway slightly. "She has to go back. You yourself even said that it's dangerous for us to have family-"

"She's not family," I argued.

"Zack…come on, think about it. We both know that having her tag along isn't exactly a genius move on your part."

"But-" I protested, because I really didn't want to leave Carly behind, for reasons I was unable to explain.

"Look, it's cute and all that you finally got yourself a girlfriend-"

"She's not a girlfriend."

"Uh-huh," Zane sarcastically replied. "And we're not sitting here arguing about whether or not she's your girlfriend." He sighed and leaned back in the chair. "Well, if she's not a girlfriend, then what is she?"

"I don't know," I reluctantly admitted.

"Zack, if you really care for the girl take her back where she needs to be before she gets hurt. 'Deck won't hesitate to kill her."

"Fine," I sighed. "We'll head back tomorrow."

"And then?"

"And then, I'll probably go play super-hero with Tinga and Max."

"Thank you," he replied curtly. He rose to his feet and stretched, raising the empty mug high above his head. 

"Why are you so concerned about what I do?" 

"Because they're my sisters too," he replied, looking down at me, lowering his arms. "Look, if you get some extra blankets under the bed where Carly's at, you can sleep out here for awhile. Catch up on some missed rest."

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"No problem, just hold up your end of the bargain."

"You're crazy," I told him as he went out to the kitchen to rinse out his coffee mug.

"Aren't we all, Zack? Aren't we all…"


	34. Heart of a Martyr

One

After retrieving my coffee mug, with most of the tea still in it, Zane rinsed the mugs out, but left them both in the sink. Then, he excused himself, saying he would rest in the guest bedroom. It was smaller than the room Carly was staying in, he told me before retreating into the shadows, but would do the trick. 

I normally would've been rather irritated that I was forced to sleep out of a bed, but it wasn't the time or the place. Besides, like I've said before, I don't do well in enclosed areas. I would have preferred to sleep outside, but with Lydecker somewhere out there, it certainly wasn't the smartest idea in the book. 

So, with Zane peacefully dozing in the guest bedroom across the kitchen, I walked quietly into Carly's room. The door, when I opened it, squeaked slightly, but fortunately, Carly didn't seem to notice. 

I crouched down and began to dig underneath the bed for a comfortable blanket to pad the wooden floor. There were about five different blankets, ranging from your typical cotton to softest flannel.

The room was fairly small, not extremely, but it was indeed little. Carly's bed was shoved up to the right wall, below a window, which was covered up with thick blinds. But, despite the covering, some golden sunlight managed to trickle it, lighting the room just barely.

In the opposite corner, there was a chair in which Carly had put her backpack and tennis shoes. The backpack itself was partially open, exposing the shiny barrel of the gun. The clip had to have been almost empty.

Laying the two blankets I had gathered down at the foot of the bed, I crept over to the chair, trying not to wake Carly. I pulled the gun out of the backpack and checked it. There, surprisingly, wasn't any more ammunition in the gun at the time. So, I slid the empty clip out and put in a fresh one. Just in case we ran into Lydecker during the trek back home later that day.

I gathered my blankets up in my arms and had just risen to my full height, ready to leave, when Carly stirred. Not knowing what to do, I stupidly froze, like the sheep I had seen only a few night earlier. 

Carly rubbed her eyes, squinting through them due to the sunlight that danced upon her lids. Finally, in the shadows she saw me. "Zack…"

I walked back over to her, knowing that I couldn't leave her now, mostly because she knew I was there. All along, I was mentally kicking myself for having stayed in the room instead of leaving. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

As I sat down at the foot of her bed, she rose to a sitting position, pushing the blankets down around her waist. While I was debating about how to break the news to her that we had to leave, she said, "When do you want to get going?"

"What?"

"We…I…have to go back, from what I understand."

"You heard?" I asked.

"Just that part…it's not like you guys were talking quietly or anything like that. If I hadn't woken up so late, I probably would've heard everything you said."

"Well," was the only thing I could think of saying.

"I know, it was stupid for me to come along in the first place."

"No," I argued. "I assumed that your apartment couldn't be safe anymore. It was a risky judgement call."

"How did…Zane…know?"

I laughed slightly and ran my fingers through my falling hair, then tucked some of it behind my ear. "He's just like that."

"I see." 

The conversation paused as she watched the floor, unsure of what to say. And I, looked away from her, also not certain what to tell her. Did I like her as more than a friend? Yeah. Did I love her? I don't know. I haven't loved a lot of people in my life. The only ones are the other X5s, and even then, that's more of a sibling kind of love…well, there are exceptions to that too, I guess.

But, I didn't enjoy the thought of Carly leaving. She had been there with me for a lot of the shit that had happened up here. Yet, what was I supposed to say? "Hey, it's been nice. Sorry, I had to kill my long-lost father in front of you, and you had to get dragged here, but it's all been fun, and I don't want you to leave"?

Like that would ever work.

Slowly, I came to realize that she was staring at me, studying almost, if you will. I turned to look at her, seeing that her glittering green eyes were catching the light like emeralds. Raising her warm hand, she caressed the side of my face, which was becoming prickly from not having shaved in a day or two. Carly, if she noticed, didn't say anything. 

Then, she leaned in and, resting her hand on my shoulder, kissed me. For a moment, I was shocked, not having expected something like that. But, hadn't this been what I secretly wanted? 

Not that logical thinking mattered anymore. My brain was clouded over with desire, something I knew little, if anything about. 

I wrapped my arms, still covered with my leather jacket, around her neck and kissed her in return. We both fell onto the bed, her hands rubbing against the warm leather of my back. Slowly, I made my way down the side of her neck where skin, warm and soft, met my lips. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. 

She pulled off my leather jacket and let it drop to the floor below. I almost objected, because that was _my_ jacket, my precious jacket, but I couldn't protest, for she had covered my mouth with soft kisses. 

I was blind, god, was I blind. All I could think about was animalistic lust, anticipating what lay ahead. The next thing I knew was that my hand was touching skin that I had never seen before; skin that was usually so protected and covered, but she wasn't stopping me from anything. She wanted it as equally as I did.

When my shirt fell to the ground and her hands touched my bare chest that I been so utterly afraid to admit to only hours before in the shower, I knew that I was a lost man. My walls were broken down; the walls that I had held up for so long against her came tumbling down. I should've held my restraints up, stopping her, preventing her from doing anything, but I couldn't. It was over, and I had lost the battle.

She kissed my chest and let her hands run over my smooth skin. A shiver passed through my body, and I prayed that she couldn't feel it. Slowly, her hands made their way to my back, and she traced the outline of my shoulder bones as she kissed me. I wondered if she was as nervous as I was.

Pulling away from my touch, she took her own shirt off, leaving her in just a silky bra. And when she pressed herself close to me, I could feel her heart pounding beneath the softness. A heart that was powerful, like the Blue Lady, but not in torture with the horrific flames. Carly was more real to me than the Blue Lady had ever been. She was my Blue Lady.

Hesitantly, I let my fingers slide down to the top of her pants. I glanced at her for affirmation that everything was ok to proceed, but she had her eyes closed as she savored the moment. So, I unbuttoned her pants and they too, joined the pile of clothes on the floor. Her legs were warm against my body, and she pulled me closer as I kissed her more deeply. 

Never before had I felt anything like it. Nothing so powerful, but yet so fragile at the same time. I've heard stories that making love is like something you'll never have again; your first time will be unforgettable. And wouldn't you know, I was still a virgin. Although, virgins are pure, sinless creatures. All of which I was not, so I suppose it would be safer to say that it was just my first time and leave it at that.

"Zack?" Carly whispered as my lips tickled the soft skin around the nape of her neck. 

I paused to look up. "Yes?"

She just smiled and ran her hand down the side of my face as our eyes met. "Are you okay?"

"For the first time in my life, yes, I am."  
Eventually, our clothes formed a pile on the floor, and we were wearing nothing but skin. The sunlight trickled in, and I felt tiny beads of perspiration begin to form as the heat in the room rose. For a split second, I thought of Zane and prayed he wouldn't find out. Worry about him later, I told myself. You've got bigger issues at hand right now.

I moved my kisses downward until I had reached what I have heard many people refer to as the "forbidden fruit". This was it.

I straddled her gently, careful not to hurt her and entered gently. Carly said nothing but shut her eyes in desire and arched her body, struggling to contain pleading moans. I feared that if I touched her blistering skin with my hands, I would be burned from the heat. She was so beautiful, but at the same time, so wonderful. I couldn't let her leave me now.

We came at the same time, but said nothing because we both knew that Zane wasn't far away. She pulled me closer as we rocked as one body, one soul together, and I was no longer apart from the world. 

Carly soon fell asleep as I laid my head on her chest listening to her peaceful breathing and the steady pulse of her heart. She had the heart of a martyr; I could sense that already even though I barely knew her. 

I wrapped my arms around her and felt her sigh. The golden sunlight fell upon us, so that we bathed in its golden rays. Nuzzling against her neck, I smelled the warm scent of vanilla and strawberries and prepared to sleep.

Later, only after Carly was fully asleep, did I swing my legs out of bed, still letting the sheets cover most of my lower half. I grabbed my boxers, which I fallen to the floor, along with the rest of my clothing and slid them on. It was a strange feeling, having clothes back on again, that is. Probably because I had spent most of the early morning without any on.

As I finished getting dressed so I could grab some breakfast or something before Carly and I left again, I realized that I didn't regret what had happened between us. I would never see her again, most likely, and that was just the way life was.

So, I stood and stretched, watching Carly as she slept peacefully in the bed, her bare arm clasping the sheets close to her, I only wondered if we could make it back to her apartment without any interruptions from Lydecker. I'd kill him on sight, if I had to. And, that, was most definitely, just the way life was.


	35. That Deadly Seed

One

After getting dressed, I exited the bedroom, leaving behind the blankets. There was no need for them now. Mostly because I didn't need to sleep and couldn't have anyhow, even if I tried. 

Zane, of course, was already up and sitting at the small kitchen table eating what appeared to be some kind of salad. He looked up as I entered, my hair mussed and most likely strewn all over, my shirt pathetically tucked in, and shoes sloppily tied. He tried to stifle a smile by covering his mouth up with his hand, but I saw it. 

I sat down across from him, resting casually in the chairs that I feared would fall apart right underneath me. He made eye contact with me before shoving a fork back into his salad. Then, he looked away as he asked, "Have fun last night…this morning, technically?" But, when he was finished, he looked back up at me for an answer.

"Be quiet," I snapped, not exactly sure what to say. I assumed that he knew. Of course he knew, for Zane always knew everything.

"Look, Zack, it's not big deal, really it's not."

"Yeah, you'd like to think so."

He laughed and stood up. "You want something to eat?"  
"Nah, Carly's got a ton of food in the backpack," I replied. But, with the mention of Carly's name we both drifted into uncomfortable silence. Well, Zane certainly wasn't uncomfortable, but I was nearly squirming in my pants.

He got himself a glass of water and sat back down at the table. "You can go into the bathroom and shave if you want. You're starting to look like some kind of…primordial species."

"Thanks," I muttered sarcastically and rose to my feet. "I got to get going soon, anyhow." 

"Smart thing to do," he told me.

I went into the bathroom and cleaned myself up to look decent. I untucked my shirt completely so that it wasn't hanging half in and half out, combed my hair back, tied my shoes properly, and of course, finished shaving. Zane was right. I was starting to look wretched. I ran my hand over my chin, where the hair was actually somewhat fine, not as coarse. Huh. Cat hair, almost. But, I didn't grow cat hair, did I? 

When I left the bathroom, Carly was already waiting, fully dressed and looking a lot better than I certainly did. The backpack was slung over her shoulder, and she arched an eyebrow as I exited the bathroom, as if asking when we were going to leave. 

Zane came out to see us off. He gave me a blanket, saying that if we didn't make it back in one day, we'd need it to sleep on the ground. I'm pretty sure he got a kick out of that comment. Had I not been in such a hurry to leave, I would've smacked him. 

"Take care," he told me, wrapping his arms around me in a brotherly hug. "Don't do anything I wouldn't."

"If I did that, I don't think I'd be in existence."

He released me and nodded his head to his right. "If you head south, you should get to the border in about a couple days to a week-depending on how fast you travel." 

"Right into Seattle?"

"Yes, we're in British Columbia-but on the coast-, so you may have to travel a little bit east to get exactly to Seattle, but at least you'll be in the U.S."

"Thanks," I told him as I stood in the doorway, ready to leave.

"Don't forget about Tinga and Maxie."

"I know," I replied and closed the door, ready to head on out into the wilderness. 

I clutched the gun in my hands, fully prepared to fight. The blanket had been put in Carly's backpack, and she followed behind me, scared as one could be, knowing that we possibly could be shot. 

Neither of us would say anything about what had happened between us. There was no need to. I mean, what exactly were we supposed to say? Huh?

She began to talk of how her mom was probably freaking out about her, being gone without contacting her, that is.

"She monitors you?" I asked, trying to calm my nerves. With the knowledge that Lydecker was out there…somewhere…waiting to kill Carly and capture me didn't exactly send me into a slumber. 

"Basically. I mean, she'll know because I didn't come in for work today."

"Oh."

"Sometimes, I'd just like to leave her all together. She can be so infuriating."

"She's your mom," I told her, half-listening to her and half-listening to the forest around me. I had to be on guard at every possible moment. 

"I know. And, it's not like I don't love her but-"

"Shh," I hissed, straining to hear. There was something, someone, in the trees. I could barely hear the footsteps, but they were there. 

Instinctively, Carly sank to the ground, her large green eyes round and afraid. This was it. The moment I had feared. 

That's when I saw them.

They had their tayzers that would shoot light out at it, paralyzing you because of the high voltage. Red dots in the forest. No! I would not leave this way! Never!

In a screaming rage, I flew into the air and shot down at least three of the men. Their guns clattered to the forest floor, while their blood flowed, as red as the lights with which they had tried to capture me.

But, there were many others around. And I, unfortunately, was only one person with one gun. Yet, I refused to give up and die this way. 

Wherever there was movement, I shot. It was all random-all done without real, logical thinking. I just shot and shot, determined to kill whoever was out there. 

Lydecker, seeing that I was getting far too violent for his liking, decided to injure me instead of waiting around for his other men to electrocute me. So, he took out his real gun and aimed for my leg or back-something that would put me out, but not kill me. I was too busy at the time to notice this, for I was trying to ward off the rest of the guards.

"Zack!" Carly screamed, her voice raspy with fear. She sprang from her feet, seeing that Lydecker was going to shoot me. Throwing herself in the air, she came towards me and pushed me to the ground, out of the range of the bullet. 

Unfortunately, in mid-air, the bullet, that deadly seed, made contact with her body. Her entire body contorted, and she fell to the ground, blood seeping from her side. She didn't move. 

"NO!" I bellowed and began to shoot in the direction from which the bullet had come. I hit something, probably Lydecker's arm or leg because I heard a groan, but yet the pattering of his retreating steps continued. 

In one fluid movement, I picked the bleeding Carly up in my arms and ran out of the area with her. It wasn't safe to stay in that area. I ran with her for some distance before stopping and crouching to the ground. And, considering how fast I can run, we were able to get far away with little effort from me.

I cradled her gently in my arms, letting her floppy head rest on my arm, and her body lay on my tucked legs. "Carly," I whispered to her. "Carly."

Her eyes were drugged, attempting to focus upon me, but having a difficult time doing so. Blood, warm and fresh, spread all over my pants and onto the grassy ground. She had been shot in the side, and I wasn't sure if any vital organs were damaged. Perhaps, I could get her to a hospital. It was an optimistic thought, but nowhere near realistic. The closest hospital had to be miles away. 

"Zack," she smiled weakly and let her bloody hand come up to caress the side of my face. It dropped down slowly, leaving crimson streaks upon my cheek. "I thought…I thought you were this god when I first saw you," she whispered, her voice fading. "But, I know that you're not that, but you're like me, and you're just a human. You've known what you're made of for…all your life." She paused as she coughed and a trickle of blood began to appear at the edge of her lips. I tenderly combed her falling blond hair out of her eyes. She didn't have long. And we both knew it. "Yet…" she continued, struggling so utterly hard to talk, "you're still human…you still love…and hate. Gods don't do that…gods can't bleed. So…you…you…take care of yourself…and remember that you'll always be human…Always…" she whispered. "You need to…"

Her eyes rolled slowly back into her head, and her entire body went limp in my arms. "Carly…" I said as quietly as possible. Then, realizing she wasn't responding, I cried out loud, "Carly! Carly! Please…Carly!" I shook her body, but she didn't answer. "God…no…Carly…"

I bent my head down so that my chin rested on my chest, and I began to moan. At first, my cries were low, tinny little bleats, and then they built and became sobs that came from my innermost being, until I realized that I wasn't crying just for Carly. It was for Brin because I couldn't save her from the demons that ate away at her mind; it was for Kyle, the man that was part of me, yet remained so utterly far away; and it was for myself and all of the asinine decisions I had made that put so many lives at risk. The tears ran down my face and fell onto Carly's pale, dying skin. My entire body was racked with such emotion that it shook as I cried. 

I've seen people die before. I've killed people. But, to have someone you care for deeply die right in your arms because they took a bullet for _you_. Your bullet, not theirs. Yours. It changes your perspective on everything.

And even I, who hardly ever cried because that was showing weakness, sat and cried in that forest, alone with Carly. 


	36. A Final Resting Spot

One

After I knew Carly was most certainly dead-because even if a person appears to lose consciousness, the brain may not be fully shut down-I began to walk. 

I headed in a westward direction, away from her town and city, and towards the ocean. I could smell the salty air as the trees thinned out and rocky cliffs began to emerge. Finally, after walking for hours perhaps-I couldn't be sure of the time anymore, for nothing mattered that much-I arrived at the ocean shore.

The sand was sparse, and the ground was mostly rocks. But, fortunately, there wasn't a soul in sight. Besides, who would come to the ocean ground that was hard on the feet and freezing on the skin?

Tenderly, I laid Carly's body down on the rocks and began to take off my leather jacket. I knew what I had to do. Once my jacket was off, I removed her backpack and pulled out the blanket Zane had given us. 

I wrapped the thin blanket around her body, tightly. It was the only thing I had that was even close to a burial shroud. She shouldn't die as the way she was.

Finally, with Carly fully ready…or Carly's body should I say. There was no more Carly; she had died already. There was only a body, a corpse, the remains of someone who had been here and now was gone.

With no one in sight, I stripped down to my jeans, knowing that they needed to be washed of the blood anyhow. I probably should've taken them off because of the ocean water, but I had to be rid of Carly's blood. It would poison me otherwise. 

Gently, I picked up Carly's body in my cold bare arms and began to walk out into the splashing water. The rocks were hard and rough against my feet, jabbing and cutting into them, but I paid no attention to them. Waves, not as high as I had feared, but waves nonetheless, splashed against my side, causing goosebumps to form up and down my skin. For miles on both sides of me there was nothing but rocks, and in front of me was an endless field of icy water. 

Once I had gotten out to shoulder deep water, I began to do a crude dog-paddle. Carly deserved to have a final resting spot and dumping her body close to shore would not help anyone. After all she had done for me through putting up with my rages and Lydecker…and taking my bullet into her own side…she had a right to a decent grave.

Finally, when I was no longer able to touch bottom, and the shore seemed endlessly far away, did I let her body go. With a tiny push, I sent it out into the ocean. 

The blanket flowed around her, ballooning upwards and giving her angel's wings, before becoming saturated with water and sinking downwards. Her body floated for sometime before the clothes became soaked, and her face disappeared completely under the white waves. 

I floated in the water, treading it, so that I could stay afloat, watching the spot where she had gone down until I could no longer feel my fingers or feet. Reluctantly, I turned back around and headed towards the shore. 

I swam back, struggling not to cry because that would be a sign of weakness, and right then, of all moments, I could not be weak. 

When I reached shore, I hauled myself out of the water and back onto land. My soggy jeans made walking difficult, but at least the blood was off of them. Not even bothering to dry down, I put on the remainder of my clothes, grabbed Carly's backpack and hiked away.

So, now, I stand on top of a jutting cliff, which looks far out into the ocean. All around me is water and rock. Complete opposites of each other, if that's what you'd like to call them.

The backpack rests against my legs, waiting to be retrieved by me, almost like a dog waiting patiently for its owner. Zane didn't go back for his dog. I don't know if I'll pick up the backpack or not.

My left hand is tucked into the warmth of my jacket, while my right fingers run over the smooth barrel of the gun. 

There's only one bullet left. I've checked it. One bullet that can take a life.

I don't know why I'm still alive. I should be dead. In fact, I should be dead many times over. Maybe it's my feline DNA and having nine lives, or maybe it's just too much luck on my part.

Yet, the guilt still hangs strong upon me, and I am forced to wonder why I am still alive. I shouldn't be. There are far better people in the world than me. Than me who is a murderer, lover, cheater, stealer.

So, the gun feeling extraordinarily heavy in my right hand, I bring it to my temple. My index finger dances over the trigger, knowing that the safety switch is off, and all I have to do is apply the tiniest bit of pressure, and my life will be over. I feel the definite shape of the gun pressing into my cold skin, and I take a deep breath, fully prepared.


	37. Up on That Cliff

One

I'm still on that high cliff, starting to tremble as flirt with the line between death and life. It could all be over in a matter of minutes…seconds, really. A little bit of pressure and that's all it takes. Nothing more. 

Then, my brain, finally coming to its senses, forces me to bring my arm back down. A huge gush of air escapes between my lips, and it's over. 

I couldn't have died like that. No, not being a fool, killing themselves due to sorrow and guilt. I'm not like that. If I have died, then Max and Tinga wouldn't have been all that far behind. And a family reunion in hell, (well, that's where I'd go, but as for them? Who knows.), isn't exactly what I had planned out on my itinerary.

Coming to my logical thinking that I've been able to uphold for most of my time since I escaped from Manticore, I put the gun back in the backpack so I won't have to look at again. Or, until I choose to do so, anyhow. 

As my fingers slide into the backpack, I feel the plaster of the Blue Lady statue. I pull it out and lift it to eye level, so that I can see her clearly. Her face is slightly chipped, causing her pale skin to be white in some spots where the underlying plaster is shown. Most likely from caused when Carly fell after she got shot. But, other than that, the Blue Lady is still the Blue Lady, beautiful as ever. 

Ben's dead and now I'm wondering why I should even believe in her at all. Why I should think that she would help me. Weakness. All human weakness. Nothing good has happened since she came into my life this time. I met my father who tried to take me back to the hell on Earth; I got shot; and Carly died, taking a bullet for me. 

With a new rage, I pick the statue up and throw it off the cliff. It falls for eternity before hitting the water below with a white froth. Finally, with my vision, I can see the statue bobbing away before it sinks away, disappearing forever. 

There. My present for Carly's grave.

After this, I'll head back to Seattle or Portland, whichever one seems to be working for me at the time. Hopefully, I can get everybody out without too much trouble. And, if somebody gets captured, it's once again going to be on my head-just like Brin, but that's other matter unto itself. So, I have to make sure I save them all from danger as I play "Super-brother Zack". 

Give me a break.

With my rotten luck, I'll swipe a gun and crash through at just the last possible minute because I've spent so much time up here. Besides, aren't dramatic entrances the best, anyhow?  
And from there? After Tinga's rescue mission? I don't know. I'll probably retreat away, as always, because I can't stay with Tinga, for she has a family. And staying with Max is certainly out of the question. Her boyfriend, (although she denies it), Logan, isn't exactly open the idea of me being around at all.

Not that I blame him any.

I sigh heavily to myself, resting my hands in my pockets, keeping them out of the wind that whips around on top of this cliff. My hair is flapping back and forth, but I don't bother to wipe it out of the way. And, the backpack, filled with only food and a gun, still rests at my feet.

It's almost time for me to leave and start heading south for the United States.

Ever since I came into Canada, I've met a lot of people. Some of those people I'll remember forever, and others, I'll try my best to forget. Either way, they're in my mind, locked away with the rest of my memories. 

I've met X5s. And, I'm not like them. They all have some kind of life-unlike me. 

Brin has her life with Manticore, even though she doesn't know any better, but it's still her life nonetheless. Zane has his up here, in the Canadian wilderness, being just…well…"Zane-y". When he gets his dog back, his life will most definitely be complete. Ben, now unfortunately dead, (another dead X5. We're becoming an endangered species, really, we are.), he had a life-even if it's killing people for fun. Max's life is with Logan in Seattle and her friends. Odd friends, but they're not mine anyhow. And, I could stand here and go through all the rest of the remaining X5s, saying how they have a life, but that's not the point.

The point is that I don't have a life. Running from Lydecker. Hah. But, that's not a life. That's living. 

So, I'll never truly be one of the X5s.

I've met the human population. The regular humans, that is, not X5s who pretend to be fully human. Carly, specifically here. She knew what she wanted, and she got it-freedom from her world. Well, like I said, she got it and now she's dead, and I'm still kicking myself over and over for it. I know, don't dwell on the past, it's not going to help anybody. But I can't help it. 

She changed something inside of me. Changed who I am. I've loved and I killed, both with her. And, all along, she kept on telling me that I was still a human, no different from her. 

But, I know that I'm different from her, and therefore, I will never be a true human. 

Of course, let's not forget my own flesh and blood. Kyle. Evil to the core and thinking of only himself, he was. Even when he knew he was going to die, he still didn't give up, didn't give up. Idiot. Perhaps, if had pleaded, I might have let him live. I guess it's better that he's dead now anyway.

Again, I'm not like him either. He was a self-serving, Lydecker loving, jerk. That's not me. 

Now I stand, with the stark realization of what I truly am planted firmly in my mind. I've seen people from all walks of life. All that could relate to me somehow, but they don't. 

And so, I shall always remain one apart.


End file.
